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#okay diary entry over
wekillitwithfire · 8 months
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oh what a scary ass dream with a profoundly beautiful ending to wake up from
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haruichi-mamiya · 7 months
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y'know i've been kinda thinking about clarence's chrono theater entries recently and like. is it normal for gifted children to have psychiatrists/therapists??? especially psychiatrists/therapists who don't actually reveal who they are???
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beatheprincess · 3 months
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Sigh severely nail biting again due to anxiety so I cant wait for these press onS/nail glue to arrive!! Had to set a small prayer to calm my nerves.✝️
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neriumdelusion · 7 months
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Last Thursday btw first time getting drunk w friends
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nerrissadevampyre · 10 months
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personal Shit™ : if God wills it maybe I'll experience one good thing for once, if not I shall pray for strength to endure failed hopes and dreams becoming lost once more
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attachablepenis · 2 years
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.
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Maybe I’m trying to rewrite our story An unfathomable amount of times Until I find the logical formula where We didn’t have to hurt eachother like that To believe that in this universe We had to be the worst version of us For the other us in different timelines Be together in a place where we didn’t Forgot our individuality Come with unknown baggage Avoided sharing the real deep feelings Kept unfazed about the impact in the other Snap at our insecurities and shortcomings Engage with conflict than compassion Or maybe I’m in the wrong world I’m a version that had to love you And you didn’t love me at all Perhaps I was the fool To think the potential of change When it was a flaw of design from the start It was how the universe could teach me To not love as unconditional as I did For someone who is not able to recognise When they have hurt me too I ought to seek repair and boundaries As the truest evidence that Their cosmos is aligned with mine Because forgiveness nor oblivion Aren’t useful nebulous matter To create a thriving ever-changing galaxy
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opqrstuv04 · 17 days
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Going to see twenty one pilots tomorrow with my roommate and my dad and sister, and DNP in November :)) middle school is back in a big way baby!
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pinkslaystation · 6 months
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Tulips or Roses?
John Price x reader
In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips
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Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.
And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.
So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.
John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)
As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?
Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.
You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.
You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.
So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.
30th February 2010
Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.
Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?
You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.
5th July 2016
Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.
You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.
19th June 2017
Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.
You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.
2nd December 2018
Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.
You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.
7th April 2019
Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.
Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.
You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.
21st August 2019
She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.
Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.
You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.
You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.
30th November 2020
In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.
You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.
You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.
"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.
Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.
So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.
"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.
All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.
"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."
You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.
But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.
The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.
But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?
"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.
"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.
"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.
"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.
"Those people, they're your team?" You question.
His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."
You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.
"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.
"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.
Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.
You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...
Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.
Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.
Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?
The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.
The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.
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A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.
He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.
Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...
He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.
"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)
"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.
The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.
He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"
"When did I say they were my favourite?"
John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."
"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.
"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"
"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"
Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.
"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.
"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.
"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"
"Are we still talking about flowers-"
"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."
"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"
"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."
You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.
"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"
John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.
"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"
You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.
"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"
His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.
"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.
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The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.
As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.
Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-
Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.
He begins reading the last entry.
19th December 2020
Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.
Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....
"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.
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It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.
After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.
The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.
Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.
John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.
"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.
"John, listen about last night-"
"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.
You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.
"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."
"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.
"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."
Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.
"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.
My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."
"John..."
He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.
You look at the first entry.
19th February 2021
I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.
You turn the page.
20th July 2021
Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.
The next one.
17th September 2021
I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.
I've always preferred tulips anyway.
And the next.
5th July 2022
Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.
17th September 2022
She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?
28rd December 2023
We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.
You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.
16th February 2024
Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.
Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.
"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."
He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."
And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.
That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum
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cutebat · 2 months
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You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.
Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader
Prologue (Diary Entry)
Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings
(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)
~~~~~
July 22, 2024
It's funny when someone tells their story.
Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.
Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...
Oh, God, that sounded dark.
~~~~~
For everyone who doesn't know,
Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad
Dick is a dick, like actually
Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me
Tim is a delusional bitch
Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground
Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes
Alfred... I guess is just Alfred
~~~~~
I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.
Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.
I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".
Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!
Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?
Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.
Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.
So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.
And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!
~~~~~
After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.
I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...
I quit being Batgirl.
I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?
So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.
~~~~~
But then one year all of that almost changed?
For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!
It was like really cool!
The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.
It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.
Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.
And then life was like FUCK THAT!
~~~~~
After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.
So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.
He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.
Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!
I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!
All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.
~~~~~
So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.
But whatever.
It doesn't matter.
Nothing matters...
My life is just a game.
A sick, hopeless game.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 months
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Eighteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/ spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT, period sex, brief mention of cannibalism/maggots[All possible tags listed, all may not apply] warning: suicidal ideation
Info: Anakinnnn your misogyny is showing, he’s insanely manipulative like so much more than normal[diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread.MDNI 18+
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September 16th 4:00ish am
Anakin returned from the shower quickly, his dark hair being ruffled up with his towel as he walked into the bedroom where you waited for him, tucked in on your side of the bed with the tv still playing softly in the background.
“Ready to talk?” Anakin gave you a lopsided smile, crawling up on the bed and joining you under the covers. He leaned back against the headboard and pulled you close, up under his arm.
“Ready.” You nodded quietly, unsure of where this conversation was headed and if you even wanted to find out.
“You look a little green around the gills sweetheart, you okay?” He asked, petting your cheek with the back of his hand.
“I’m okay Ani, I’m just… anxious I guess.” You said softly, trying to reassure him with a small smile but only making him worry more by your reaction.
“Hey, don’t stress.” He said, kissing the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. “It’s nothing scary.”
“Look, I know I should’ve told you this a long time ago.” He whispered, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. “I love you and I promise I’ll understand if you get upset after hearing this. You’ve every right to punch me in the face.”
“I’m not gonna punch you in the face.” You breathed a little laugh.
“That’s yet to be decided.” He sighed, squeezing you against his chest with his free arm. “So, you remember how my mom was all odd about stuff when you met her?”
“I wouldn’t say she was ‘odd’ about stuff.” You shook your head and opened your mouth to speak again, but you were interrupted.
“She was much more odd when she called me over for a side bar.” He chuckled, using his forefinger and thumb to tilt your face up by your chin. “She was pissed off that I hadn’t told you that I take a few daily meds.
“Anakin! What if something had happened and I didn’t know, you could-“
“I’m not a closet diabetic or anything, it’s nothing too serious, I won’t die without it.” He stopped you by rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Cute that you thought of that though.”
“It’s cute that I worried my boyfriend could’ve died?” You huffed.
“From my point of view yeah.” He smiled, his dimple making an appearance.
“Back to the seriousness though, princess.” He said softly. “I take a mood stabilizer, I ran out and I have to go see my doctor to get the prescription refilled. I’ll have to start seeing them every month again.” He sighed, almost wincing in preparation for your response.
“That’s it?” You asked with eyebrows in a low confused swoop. “That’s what you’re worried I’d punch you in the face for? Anakin that’s not even worth a flick to the forehead.” You snorted.
“You’re not mad?” He asked, surprised.
“I’m annoyed, irritated.” You admitted, pulling your lips into a sideways frown. “You could’ve just told me. I wouldn’t have judged you for it. That’s silly.”
“You’re not mad, like at all?” He repeated himself as though he expected this to be an argument.
“No I’m not mad.” You shook your head. “Disappointed that you didn’t think you could tell me… yes.”
“Oh sweetheart it’s not that I-“ he groaned, pressing his hands over his eyes. “I wish I would’ve told you to begin with. It’s just that I’ve had some negative reactions before and I guess I wanted to make sure you were in it for the long haul… you know?”
“I just didn’t expect that I’d be having to tell you because I’ve been a fucking asshole.” He said apologetically. “I think that’s why I’m so surprised. Baby, I’ve not been myself but I promise I’ll be right back to where I should be after my appointment okay?”
“Do you want me to come with you?” You asked, trying to offer him support.
“What? Why would you want to-“
“Because you’re my boyfriend and I care about you?” You said a bit more sharply than intended, your hand on his chest.
“I… well,” he swallowed as though he were more nervous now than he was to begin with. “It’s just that I’ll have to you know; talk about stuff with my doctor.”
“Mhm, yeah that’s what you do at a doctors appointment.” You nodded with a smirk.
“Smartass.” He huffed. “Anyway, I suppose you’re owed at least that aren’t you? After not having known about it.”
“Anakin that’s ridiculous you don’t ‘owe’ me anything because of this.” You laughed tiredly. “If you don’t want me to go I won’t, I just wanted to offer support.
“You’re an Angel you know that?” He grinned, pulling you into his chest and wiggling around until he was laying on his back with your head tucked under his chin. “You can come with me. If you don’t mind sitting in the waiting room.”
“Are you kidding? I love waiting rooms, seven year old magazines, weird little old lady asleep in the corner, secretary who plays solitaire instead of working…” You grinned.
“Man you’re making me wanna trade places.” He clicked his tongue with a chuckle.
“So, what’s your diagnosis?” You asked after a silent moment, changing the subject back to the serious side of the topic.
“What?” He stiffened, shifting to look over at you, his chin tucked against his shoulder.
“Well you’re on a mood stabilizer, what’s your diagnosis? It’s not a big deal, my sister’s husband has bipolar.” You shrugged, noticing the way his energy grew colder.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your b-“ he started, stopping to breathe through his nose. “Sorry.”
“I just hate labeling stuff like that you know? There’s such a stigma around mental health. It’s a chemical imbalance in my brain, not a fucking mind controlling parasite or something scary like that.” He grumbled, lips in a thin line while he clenched his teeth.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset or-“
“I’m not upset!” He snapped and let out a burst of air from his nostrils. “I’m not- not upset. I just don’t want this to be a thing you know?”
“A thing?” You questioned.
“Yeah. A thing, an issue, a problem.” He clarified, rolling his eyes. “It’s always been something that everyone blames shit on. I wake up grumpy ‘Anakin did you take your medicine?’. I complain about standing in a line at the fucking coffee shop ‘Ani, sweetie, are you doing okay?’. I don’t answer the phone on the first ring ‘Ani! I was so worried. Do you need me to come visit? Take care of things?’. It’s just all a matter of time before-“
“Oh no sir.” You stopped him, a scowl on your face. “Absolutely not. Don’t you dare tell me I’m gonna start nagging you like I’m your mother.”
“That’s not what-“
“No, that’s stupid okay? Listen I know it sucks to be questioned like that but she’s only doing it cause she cares about you.” You said, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Now that I know… I trust you’ll tell me if there’s anything going on I should know about.”
“You don’t answer to your mother anymore and if she or anyone else has questions they can talk to me.” You said sternly. Anakin stared at you, lips parted slightly. Even in the dark you could see his pupils dilate a little more.
“That was hot.” He said, smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “When did you get so bossy?”
“You are the company you keep.” You shrugged, a light smile on your face.
“Callin’ me bossy? Rude.” He chuckled.
“Maybe, maybe not.” You huffed out a little laugh.
”You know…” He whispered, breath warm as it fanned across your cheek, “I could be really bossy if you want.” His voice deep and rumbling in his chest, the vibrations resounding in your own, pressed against his.
”You did so good for me earlier, let me pay you back babydoll.” His husky words stoking the flame in your womb. He shifted, pressing his cock against your hip and grinding, one hand trailing down your back, over your ass and gripping the back of your thigh to pull over him, manhandling you until you perched over his throbbing member. You could feel the heat emanating from it even through your clothes, making your mouth water.
”Ani, it’s so late.” You whispered, nibbling the skin on your lower lip as you prepared to turn him down… again. “I can suck you off if you want.” You offered as an alternative.
“Are you fucking serious? ‘If i want’? You make it sound like a chore.” He groaned frustratedly, gently shoving you off his lap. “You know what? Never mind.”
”I’ll just do it my damn self, like I have been since you came back.” He snapped at you, getting up from the bed and slamming the bedroom door shut as he left the room.
He was much angrier about the denial than you expected, so angry that he was feeling spiteful. Stomping over to the couch he sat himself down and fumed for a moment before deciding a course of action. Looking down at his phone, the album of your many homemade pornos calling his name. He wanted to screen mirror it to the TV, curious if you’d recognize your own moans and sloshing pussy and come running.
He licked his top row of teeth, The devious thought now at the forefront of his mind and there was no stopping him. He grabbed the remote and screen mirrored his phone to the TV, something he’d done a shameful nuimber of times to these very videos without your knowledge. He turned up the sound enough that you could hear it, but the poor neighbors sharing his living room wall would be spared.
He selected one of his favorites and exited the album to prepare the rest of his plan before steeping into action. Anakin tugged at his boxers and spit in the palm of his hand, slicking up his painfully neglected dick, shivering at the feeling of the well deserved friction that you had denied him. Hitting play he watched as Ghost shoved you to your knees on your bedroom floor, wasting no time at all in shoving his cock down your pretty throat and brutalizing your delicate mouth.
He loved the view, being able to see himself doing such things to you. It was as close to an out of body experience he’d ever gotten. He firmly gripped his shaft, spreading his precum over his cockhead with his thumb. Groaning at the feeling of the calloused skin on such a soft, silky, sensitive part of himself. The beautiful noises you made, choking and gagging as you tried to breathe through your nose, it was like he was transported right back to that moment, seeing it in real time all over again.
This part was for him, just a warm up, just enough to get himself more needy than he already was. He wanted to look as pitiful as he felt when you came barreling out of the bedroom to confront him. He edged himself until he was sick of it, until he was so sensitive that his tip leaked, his balls tightened with every few strokes and he felt as though if he didn’t cum he might throw up.
He flicked over to the next video, another favorite, one he watched so often that if it were on DVD the damn thing wouldn’t play anymore. The one time Ghost stripped himself naked for you, let you feel the warmth of his skin against yours. It was dirty, sensual, dare he even say… romantic? He could feel the connection you shared through the screen each and every time he saw it. Imagining what was going on in that stupid little brain of yours when he hears the first gasp, your realization he was baring himself to you. He wondered if you were nervous, if the idea of it scared you, if it made it all the more real for you like it did for him. That barrier of fabric removed, nothing restricting your soft skin from touching his, he wondered if that’s the moment it set in for you that Ghost was more than a fantasy. He was flesh and blood just like you.
——————————————————————————
You sat in bed where Anakin had left you, unable to comprehend his reaction. You stared at the door, expecting him to come back in a moment after he’d cooled off. He’d apologize, you’d forgive him, everything would be fine. After all, you understood the awful mood swings now. This wasn’t entirely your fault. You were just that catalyst.
Though he didn’t come back. You checked your phone in hopes you’d see a message that maybe he was on the fireescape smoking and he’d be right back after his cigarette, ready to hold you as you fell asleep. That’s all you wanted, some comfort. On top of everything else that had happened this past week, you’d started your period. It was no wonder you’d been extra emotional, overly worried and over thinking every minuscule aspect of the goings on in your life. The hands of fate had decided you needed one more punch to the face in the form of blood and pain.
Poetic justice for the blood you’d spilt? Not likely, but it was in close enough in probability for it to have made you laugh the day before yesterday when you’d spotted in your favorite pair of panties.
You had almost calmed yourself from the stress of you current situation when you heard low grunting from the living room, paired with a lewd gagging noise. Porn. He was watching porn rather than taking you up on your offer of oral pleasure. Not only was it a slap to the face, it was a backhanded one at that, realizing it was too loud to be played on his phone. He was replacing you with a pornstar on the hi-def flatscreen in the living room, a perfect picture of a perfect girl that could never be you.
You had half a mind to go in there and ask him what the hell he was thinking, how could he be so cruel… but you stopped yourself. He was fully in his right to watch porn whenever he wanted. Who were you to tell him he couldn’t satisfy himself? That would be insane, it’d be a breach of privacy and a horrible misuse of trust. How awful would you be to tell him to stop when you’ve been fucking around behind his back for the entirety of your relationship?
So you sat and stewed, torturing yourself with images of him touching himself. His large hands, the ripple of muscle in his arm when he stroked his shaft, the noises he made, the way his pretty blue eyes would flutter shut as his head fell back, plump lips being bitten to keep quiet. It was all you could do not to burst into tears. Your couldn’t imagine someone else giving him that kind of pleasure. It made you sick. Even if it was only a woman on screen it felt like betrayal, even more so because he chose her over you.
“You’re a horrible, awful human being” You whispered to yourself, sucking in a breath as the crushing weight of all your transgressions impacted your fragile mind state.
The thought of him feeling this way was more than enough to break your heart. You had no right to cry, not after everything you’ve done. These weren’t your tears threatening to spill. These were Anakin’s. This awful stomach churning, head busting, throat closing pain; was Anakin’s, not yours. This is what he’d feel if he ever discovered what you’d been doing.
He would see the same images you did, only his torturous slideshow would be starring you. Your face scrunching up in pleasure, your mewls and whines as another man fills the sweet pussy he thought belonged only to him. He’d see the flushed face and embarrassed giggle you make when he stares so deeply into your eyes he feels his head swim… then it would be ruined by the thought of someone else doing the very same. Someone else making you cry out for more, someone else making you shake, someone else kissing away the salty tears he so loved to see stain your cheeks after he’d made a mess of you. Tainted, irreparably destroyed and desecrated in a way that could never be forgiven.
He wouldn’t be able to see anything else but your betrayal when he set his eyes on you.
Just as you were coming to terms with that fact, another hit you hard in the gut. Bile rising up in your throat and burning yout nostrils as you forced yourself to swallow it back down. What about Ghost? Is this how he has felt throughout it all? The room spun with the idea that you could’ve been causing him such agonizing pain for so long. He’d seen it all. He had been looking after you long before Anakin entered the picture. He had to watch from the shadows as you fell in love with someone else. He was subjected to the very things you’d just played through in your mind.
He had been watching another man touch the woman he loved. The woman he loved so much that he was willing to do anything and everything on earth to see you, keep you, hold you. The woman he treated like royalty in his own way, unconventional to most but… when he called you a goddess you felt like one. How else would you have been lucky enough to be loved by a man like him and to be loved by a man like Anakin at the same time? How horribly fitting.
A perfect example of the tragedies of old. Hubris of the gods always causing chaos for the weaker beings on the earth below. You’d been watching from a chaise in the clouds, peering down at the two heroes fighting for your affections. Only one having knowledge of the competition, a champion as they’re often called; a fighter who has the favor of a deity. A mortal with no knowledge of the battle they’re in… will most certainly befall a gruesome death at the hands of the devine’s champion.
You held your head in your hands, taking calming breaths. This is exactly the kind of thing you were reprimanding yourself for earlier. Overthinking. Over analyzing. Putting yourself and others in it, in a scrutinizing environment that would only lead to a downward spiral.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Nothing is going to happen. Everything always works out in the end.” You promised yourself.
You shook yourself from the self inflicted suffering, thinking maybe a drink of cool water and possibly a retch over the toilet might help stop the icepick hacking away at your brain, pressure building behind your eyes to from the world’s worst headache. As you stood, you slowly became aware of the change in sound coming from the living room. It had went quiet a few minutes ago, but now it seemed…
”Are you fuckin-“ Anakin was watching another video. You’d wrongfully assumed the break in sex noises meant that he was finished and would come back to bed, though it seemed he had plans to stay busy for the next little bit.
You huffed, reminding yourself that its fine, everything is fine. Just take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and-
“What the hell was that?” You thought, ears tuning into something intimately familiar as your hand hovered over the door knob.
There is no way. No possible way that Anakin could’ve gotten his hands on that footage of his own accord… right? This was it, this was the end of it all, the beginning of the fall of the greatest era of your life. Ghost had done it, he’d sent him the videos. How stupid could you have been to believe he didn’t have cameras here too? Did you really believe he wasn’t going to monitor the other man in your life?
He’d heard the argument. He’d seen Anakin storm off, watched as he… touched himself. Then used your own actions against you; this wasn’t a coincidence that the very night you searched for Ghostface porn, research purposes or not, that an explicit video of you with not your boyfriend ends up on the tv where said boyfriend is jacking off.
Surely you’re imagining it right? You’ve just worked yourself up into a tizzy and now you’re hearing things because of your overwhelming guilt. Yes, that’s it. It’s all in your head. You’ve heard Ghost speak so many times that it’d be silly of you not to be able to conjure up an exact replica of his voice and exact words you’d heard from behind his mask before. You know what your own moans sound like, of course you do. Doesn’t everyone?
You grab the door knob and twist it open, pushing open with more force than necessary and bracing yourself for the possibility that Anakin may be on the other side of it ready to kick you out and never let you come back. But the sounds you heard on the other side of the door didn’t sound like you and Ghost. It didn’t sound like porn of any kind. It sounded like… Dale Gribble?
”Ani?” You asked quietly, poking your head around the corner, your eyes adjusting to the different lighting to reveal him curled up in the corner of the sofa, wrapped in a blanket.
“Huh?” He sniffled. He’d been crying?
You’d imagined it. He hadn’t done anything at all. He’s been sitting in here, alone, sobbing over his bong and an empty beer bottle while watching Comedy Central. The poor boy had tried to take his mind off the subject of his weirdly behaving girlfriend by watching King of the Hill. You’d never seen someone close to rock bottom before, but Anakin looked like he had just booked an express ticket for the earliest train.
”Sorry, I uh… what are you doing?” You asked cautiously approaching him, your gaze flickering to the TV suspiciously.
”I’m just… moping.” He cleared his throat, hiding his burning hot face in the crook of his arm. “I’m sorry doll, I feel stupid getting so upset over this. It’s not fair to you.”
“Anakin, are you okay?” You asked as you sat down next to him, your hand on his chest to feel his rapid heartbeat and heaving lungs.
“Sweetheart, is there something you’re not telling me?” Anakin asked and your heart bounced out of your chest.
”What? I don-“
”It’s just… I can’t help but feel a bit insecure.” His voice soft and hurt. “You won’t give me a straight answer as to why you won’t let me touch you. I miss you baby.”
”Ani it’s got nothing to do with you I promise.” You whispered, wanting him to lay his eyes on you, but he kept them downturned.
”But its… It’s been since before your trip, I just worry. Are you sure I didn’t do something?” He asked, finally looking over at you with big watery eyes, the salty tears spilling over into a stream down his hot cheeks.
“Anakin, let’s not rehash this again.” You pleaded, taking his trembling hand in yours. “Yes I was upset when I came back from my trip, that made me less inclined to want to be… intimate.”
“So, so what’s wrong n-now?” He sniffled, swiping the heel of his palm over his cheeks.
“I’m not upset Ani, I just… I’m on my period and I just don’t fe-“ He sat up slightly and cupped your cheek.
”Babydoll, Why didn’t you just say so?” Anakin asked in a pained tone, like he was deeply perturbed you kept that detail to yourself. “I’ve been beating myself up thinking I’d done something to upset you or-or make me less attractive to you.”
”Oh, no don’t say that, no. You’re so handsome, hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “I will never not be attracted to you.”
”I’ve just been so emotional and I’ve been cramping and everything hurts, I’m tired and period sex is so messy Ani.” You said as nicely as possible so you wouldn’t set him off again.
”Darlin’ you know I don’t mind a little blood,” he chuckled, sucking in a breath through his nose. “I’ve helped you with your cramps before, let me help now.” He said softly, rubbing your cheek bone with his thumb.
”Feel me sweetheart… it hurts me.” He whined, taking your hand to place it over his cock.
So hot, throbbing and covered in precum that you could feel the sticky wet patch where his cockhead rested against the fabric of his boxers. He felt so stiff that you knew immediately he hadn’t cum, maybe he hadn’t even attempted to take care of the issue hisself like you assumed.
“Anakin, I thought you… you know?” You asked quietly, eyebrows pinched in concern.
“I tried.” He sniffed, looking away with an air of embarrassment surrounding him. “Couldn’t do it.”
“Why not?” Your voice soft and warm, an attempt to soothe him.
“C-cause you were right there n’ all I could th-think about was y-you not wantin’ me.” He whimpered, his bottom lip in a pout as he frowned, taking in a choppy breath.
“Aw Ani, I’m sorry.” You whispered, reaching over to touch his face. “Let me see, let me help you.”
“It’s okay babydoll, I-I’ll just wait for it to go down.” He bit his lip, taking a throw pillow from the couch beside him to put over his lap, hiding his raging erection.
“No,” You shook your head, feeling awful for how you’d denied him for such silly reasons, you should’ve known better. “I want to. Please let me?”
“Y-you really do?” He asked with a pitifully hopeful tone that nearly knotted your stomach.
“Of course I do.” You said softly, nodding your head for his reassurance. “Just uh, I gotta go to the bathroom real quick to take out my tampon.” You said, almost bashfully.
“You’re gonna let me?” He asked with knitted eyebrows, his face twisted in a sense of surprise and maybe disbelief. “You’re gonna let me make love to you?”
“If that’s what you want.” You nodded, folding your lips behind your teeth before letting them roll back out.
“Please.” He nodded, nearly falling over as he scooped you up and took you to the bedroom. “Thank you baby, thank you.” He whispered repeatedly as if he couldn’t express his gratitude enough.
“Wait I gotta-“ You let out a little giggle at his eagerness despite being the cause of it.
“Don’t care. I’ll get it.” His voice came out low and raspy as he lay you down with your legs hanging over the end of the bed. You tried scooting yourself upright and he stopped you, a gentle hand placed on your stomach to keep you were he wanted.
“Ani, please, let me go to the bathroom.” You whined, unsure about how you’d handle being so vulnerable with him. It’s one thing to be intimate while on your period but an entirely different matter when it comes to another person, even one you trust, to remove your tampon.
“I’ll be careful.” He whispered, tugging off your shorts and panties in one go, reaching behind him to pull over his small bedroom trash can that he kept near the closet.
Gently, carefully he very slowly parted your folds, giving him full access to your most intimate place. He licked his thumb, running it back and forth over your clit with his other hand poised to take action.
“Ready? I promise I’ll be so careful.” His tone made it seem less of a question and more of a finality. He was going to remove it regardless of your answer. He confirmed that prediction by tugging carefully on the string at your opening.
“So fuckin’ sexy.” He whispered into the plushness of your inner thigh as he placed soft kisses there to soothe you while removing it carefully as promised.
With it tossed in the trash, Anakin jumped into one of his very favorite things to do; feast on your pussy. His tongue snaked it’s way from your weeping hole all the way up to your clit. Letting out a low, wanton moan he buried his tongue as deeply as possible into your cunt, slurping and teasing your entrance before plunging back inside, repeating the process over and over again until he had you squirming.
“Pussy’s so sweet.” He mumbled, humming contentedly like he was prepared to do that for the rest of all time and throughly enjoy every sinful second.
His hands found your hips, elbows bent to keep your legs open for him. His thumbs gently pressing down in massaging circles meant to help relieve your muscles from cramps. You can’t deny that it does help, you’ve almost forgotten the real reason you’d been fending off his advances, almost angry at Ghost- yourself for being the reason you had denied yourself this pain relief.
“Relax pretty girl, you’re so tense.” He whispered pulling back to look up at you, “gotta enjoy this while you can… I can wait much longer.” He smiled apologetically, he hated not being able to take his time, but you understood.
“It’s okay Ani,” you panted, lacing your fingers through his hair to draw him back to where you needed him most. “y-you can-“
“Really? Thanks sweetheart.” He chirped, hopping up from his kneeling position and pulling you toward him as he stood at the foot of his bed.
He didn’t wait for you to finish speaking, he didn’t listen to your nonverbal cue, he simply ripped off his shirt and boxers; revealing his horribly red and irritated cock. The tip covered in precum, shiny and dripping a fresh bead that glistened in the lamp light. He really wasn’t kidding when he said it hurt, you almost felt a sympathy pain for him at the sight of it.
“Oh Anakin, oh I’m so sorry.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows to take off your shirt that he’d left on in his rush. “I didn’t realize…”
“Shh, shh.” He hushed you, cleaning the bloody slick from his chin, running his palm across his skin to smear it on his chest. “S’okay. S’fine.” He shook his head.
Running the heated tip through your dampness, nudging your clit before pushing inside slowly as he shivered. The simple act of being enveloped by your warm, welcoming walls had him biting down on his whitened knuckles to keep himself from bursting then and there.
“So good.” He whined, rutting into you with shallow thrusts, bringing the crook of your knees to rest over his shoulders. “So damn good, wet n’ sloppy for me. S-so pretty, such a pretty red.” He whimpered, pulling out completely to stroke himself just once, gathering up the bloody mixture to lick from his hand with a disgusting fervidity.
“Ani.” You chided, a slight grimace on your face. You didn’t necessarily find it gross, but it was definitely embarrassing.
“I love you, every part of you.” He said, his voice needy and squeaky. “Even this.”
“Don’t stop me from doing what I love.” He said, gripping your thighs against his chest, leaning forward slightly to speed up his pace.
Anakin’s breathing was shallow and choppy, like he was having trouble remembering to breathe, as if the only thing his brain was capable of was keeping up with how hard and fast he was pounding into you.
“Ah-s-slow please.” You hiccuped, being jostled up and down from the roughness, bracing yourself by gripping the edge of the bed.
“Can’t.” He shook his head frantically, his bottom lip quivering as he bit down to hide it from you.
“You okay Ani?” You asked with concern through halted speech.
“Mhm.” He nodded, his face growing pink as he squeezed his eyes shut. Anakin was trying so hard not to cry. Cry from the overwhelming need to cum, the overstimulation he’d forced on himself, and from how his thousandth declaration of love seemed to fail at chipping away your defenses once again.
He wasn’t trying to please you in this moment, this was completely for his benefit. The release he so desperately needed was just within his reach and nothing and no one could stop him from claiming it. He’d waited too long, been uncomfortably suffering since he stormed out of the bedroom and now that he was back, he didn’t think you’d mind being a little… used.
“S-sorry doll, sorry.” He hiccuped, hearing you mewl and feeling your nails dig into his shoulders as you took the beat he so lovingly doled out. “Can’t help it, m’sorry.”
He dropped your legs to hang at his sides, sliding both his arms beneath you to press you against himself in a tight squeeze, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, both gripped firmly in his strong hands, fully securing you in his arms.
“I wanna be close to you.” He whispered, nuzzling into your neck as his cock slid smoothly in and all the way out of your soaked pussy, just to repeat the movement again at an inhumane speed and depth. The tip not just kissing your cervix, but most certainly bruising it from the bullying motion. “Need to be close to you, s’not enough.”
“Can’t get any closer than this Ani.” You breathed out a light laugh after taking in a sharp gasp.
“Wish I could.” He sniffled, his hips stuttering as his stomach tightened and he was no longer able to hold his tears at bay.
“I love you.” He whispered, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and dropping in small puddles across your shoulder and collar bone. He tried to silence himself by kissing your neck, nipping lovingly but he was so shaky it was no use in trying to conceal his emotions so he let himself sob.
“I love you, I just want you to love me.” Anakin sobbed, loud and exhausted, his chest heaving against yours, sticky with sweat from his efforts. “I want you to love me, why don’t you love me?”
His pleas were pitiful, so raw and vulnerable. He was once again baring his soul to you and you had no idea how to respond. The first instinct is to say it back, say it and soothe him, help him reign in his tears. But you hesitate, knowing it wasn’t exactly right; even if it is true.
“Please.” Whimpering softly, audibly sniffing back snot after letting his heart bleed through his lips. “Please just love me, let yourself love me like I love you.”
“C-can’t.” He whined, hips snapping against yours as he reached between you to put pressure on your clit, the simple touch fogging your brain. “I can’t cum.” He hiccuped.
It was awful, seeing him so close, so wild and frenzied to climb to a summit he just couldn’t get to, the poor boy had been so frustrated for so long and now that he finally had you again it was practically torture to be within those satiny walls he would kill to live in.
“Anakin.” You said softly, shifting and wriggling in his tight embrace to gain use of one arm to gently push his chin up, making him look at you. He looked as piteous as he sounded, red faced and splotchy, luscious eyelashes heavy with salty tears.
“Anakin I do… I do love you I-“
“Goddamnit.” He choked out, his movements completely stilling save for the twitching of his cock and the rapid beat of his heart, he even stopped breathing. The halted air eeking out in a groaning squeak while he pumped you so full of cum that you could feel it overflow, leaking out without him even moving.
“I do love you Ani. I just wasn’t ready to say it and I was scared.” You said quietly, letting him collapse into a quietly weeping heap atop you, his hips rolling against you ever so slowly.
“Say it again.” He asked, so sorrowfully that you could deny it if you tried.
“I love you.” Your hand finding his head, holding him against your damp chest as you gently scratched his scalp. It was bittersweet to say it aloud. You’d kept it bottled up for months and it was a relief to finally admit it, but it also twisted that proverbial knife in your gut. You can’t truly love a man while another has a piece of your heart as well.
“Let me kiss my princess.” He whispered, leaning back to wipe at his mess of a face before coming back to meet your lips with his own. “I love you baby, I love you.” His voice soft and sweet, a light lilt that made your heart feel just a bit lighter.
Anakin started to thrust slow and deep, reaching every part of you with equal intensity. With one hand he pushed your right leg back against the bed, his other coming to run across your abdomen, caressing the skin until he reached the beautiful valley and hills of your breasts. He was taking his time now, but you knew it wouldn’t be long until you unraveled.
“I love you too.” You said, swallowing down the lump in your throat and giving him a soft, warm smile, blinking quickly to bat away the tears forming. You weren’t entirely sure why your eyes got watery but you knew for certain it wasn’t solely because of your confession.
Enveloping one of your nipples into his mouth twisting and pinching the other between his saliva covered fingers, Anakin stayed true to his promise that he’d make love to you. Everything he did now was focused entirely on you and your needs. He watched every twitch, every breath, every heart beat to stay intuitive to what you desired of him.
“Like that.” You nodded quickly as he angled his hips upward to put extra pressure on your sweet spot -only he could reach.-
“You like it sweetheart?” He rasped, looking down at you with lust blown pupils.
“Love it.” Mewling as you arched into his hand that snuck between your thighs.
“That’s what I wanna hear babydoll.” Anakin licked his bottom lip, carefully working you up to orgasm with his skillful touch and perfectly fitted cock.
“Gods… what a pretty pink.” He mumbled, looking down where your bodies met with a hunger that seemed insatiable.
Anakin didn’t want to stop his consistent and steady pace he’d set with his thumb. But, he just could not resist the temptation to taste the creamy pink blend of your slick, his cum and your sweet, sweet blood. Gathering up a dollop, he brought it to his mouth, sucking his finger clean with a ferocity you’d never expected. His knees buckled and his cock twitched; suddenly he was cumming again, powering through his unsteady thrusts to attempt to keep his pace for you.
“Fuckin’ hell doe-oll, doll, my babydoll.” He corrected himself, hoping you wouldn’t think anything of it.
You didn’t. You couldn’t think at all. You could hardly hear a single syllable from his plump lips, focusing all your attention and energy on reminding yourself to breathe as you clenched around his thickness. The sudden and unexpected sensation of him coating your gummy walls, simply from such a disgustingly delicious taste was enough to send you into an equally spontaneous orgasm. Your legs shook, a high-pitched whine escaped your chest and you squirmed beneath him while gripping the blanket beneath you so tightly you felt sure that you’d ripped a bit of the stitching.
“There’s my girl, my sweet girl.” He muttered, seeing your eyes fluttering back open as though you were regaining consciousness. In a way, you were.
“Mmhmm.” You nodded tiredly, your arms wrapping around his neck as he nuzzled against your throat, peppering kisses across your flushed skin. “Your girl.”
“I know.” He chuckled, tilting your head back to capture you in a gentle, sensually slow kiss. His tongue barely grazing your lip, just enough to leave you breathless before he pulled back and flashed you a smile you hadn’t seen for a few days. A real one.
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Diary Entry: September 17th
I should be ashamed of myself, I’m aware. I just can’t be bothered to conjure up that emotion.
I’m taking this and fucking sprinting with it, I’ll hit Mach 10 before NASA does. You told me you loved me. Me. Anakin.
Yeah it might’ve been… coerced. Just a tiny little bit of course, you said it if your own accord. I simply pushed you in the right direction. Now. Don’t go thinking those tears were a sham. I swear they weren’t.
That embarrassing display was entirely real and justified in my opinion, though that doesn’t make it any easier to acknowledge that this was not the first time and won’t be the last time that I cry while balls deep in your heavenly body.
Insane isn’t it? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it every single opportunity that arises: it’s just further proof that you truly are a goddess. How else would it be possible to cause a grown man to fucking cry like that?
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Date: September 16th 12:38
You stretched, yawning and groaning as your body adjusted to being awake. You’d slept late, as late as you possibly could because of how long you’d stayed up last night. You were still tired, not nearly as exhausted as expected but still sleepy enough that if you were to close your eyes for too long they’d stay shut for another few hours.
You sniffed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, rolling over to your phone and seeing Anakin had texted you not too long ago. He was out getting groceries for the two of you and he’d promised to bring home your favorite icecream, knowing you’d gnawed through the very last of it and you desperately needed more. After sending a quick message to let him know you were finally awake, you rolled over again and stretched out like I starfish, enjoying the cooler temperature of the sheets on Anakin’s side of the bed.
Even going so far as to scooch yourself over and snuggle up to his pillow to breathe in his scent. A cold, hard object touched your cheek and startled you, the item making a slightly metallic sound in the dark room. You grabbed your phone and held the screen over the pillow, nearly choking on air when you recognized the offending object. You grabbed it, turning it over in your hands with a most confused expression on your face.
Ghost. He’s brought your hair pin over here, placed it on Anakin’s pillow for you to find. But why? He never did things without a purpose, so what on earth could he have aimed to do by leaving you this? Bolting upright you went straight to the light switch and flicked it on, blinking and shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness as you frantically looked around the room in search of anything out of place.
Once you were certain the bedroom was safe, you searched the rest of Anakin’s apartment and found that all was well in each corner of his home. So it must mean Ghost has left something for you at your own home. Or maybe he’s just trying to fuck with you? He’s been so confusing and it’s been so awful… maybe he’s just hoping to upset you. Even so, you found yourself walking across the threshold of your apartment just moments later.
Ghost has been here. He’s been here while you were away at Anakin’s and you’re not entirely sure what the point of his visit was. The cat food bowl was full, your floor had been vacuumed and your bedroom door was open.
Half expecting to find him in there, you walked in and surveyed the room. Disappointment flooding you when you realized he wasn’t there like you’d hoped. Though remnants of him were. Spread neatly across the top of your dresser were all the little things that you’d kept in your jewelry box. Trinkets and notes, along with a few other things. The tiny cameras. He’d taken them all down and laid them in a row for you to see.
He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he didn’t need them anymore. He was finished watching you, instead of relief you felt a painful sense of loss, like you were missing something intangible but feeling it physically. Anakin’s ring. The bullet. They were both lying there at the end of the dresser, the bullet laid inside the metal centipede. Odd. Odd enough to note it for further reflection if needed, but not odd enough to capture your full attention.
No. Your sights were set on a cardboard box lying atop your bed. You rushed to rip the lid off, seeing something unexpected inside. Underwear. A whole handful of panties, your panties. Pairs you’d long since assumed had been eaten by the shitty laundromat washers. Beneath them were a set of identical sheets to the ones on your bed at that very moment, you even lifted the edge of the comforter to confirm it.
The items only continued to grow stranger. Some things you didn’t even recognize until closer inspection, like reciepts, bookmarks, random odds and ends of things you’d lost or thrown out… things you didn’t understand why he would’ve wanted to keep. That was until you stumbled across one slip of paper tucked away inside the large ziploc bag of other crinkled papers. A phone number.
The yoga instructor. His phone number, all this time you’d believed you’d simply lost it. The truth dawned on you slowly as you spread out all those little scraps of your life, realizing some of them were yours and some were his. Theater tickets, restaurant coasters, stupid little things that held no meaning for you until now. He’d followed you far and wide, that much you already knew. You just didn’t realize how closely he was following.
He’d attended movies with you, he could’ve sat directly behind you and watched you instead of the screen and you wouldn’t have ever known. Your favorite coffee place, there were some of your receipts along with a slew of what must be his, considering you never ordered smoothies from there. Time stamped minutes before or after your reciepts were. You’d drank coffee, stood in line… never noticing him.
You wracked each corner of your mind in hopes of finding a familiar face sticking out in the recesses. Willing yourself to dig deep and fish out a common denominator. Was there a man who could possibly fit his physique amongst the crowds in your memories? Try as you might, there weren’t any faces coming up on your register that seemed suspicious or even slightly familiar.
Pictures. Close to a hundred pictures of you from all moments of life. Shopping at the grocery store, getting into your car, browsing the shelves of the library, chatting with your friends, or simply of you inside your home from outside your livingroom window. Even more unsettling were the photos without you in them. Photos of Luke’s apartment, your sister’s house, The Bluebird diner, your car.
Then at the very bottom was your copy of The Silmarillion, the one you’d been so horribly disappointed to lose. Not that it made you feel any better to have it back, not now. Not after everything. You opened it up and saw a sticky note inside with Ghost’s handwriting adorning it.
‘Sent with all my love, Ghost.’
That’s it? That’s all he had to say after dropping this bombshell off on you? You were so simply exasperated by the entire situation that you shoved everything back down into the box, then making a big sweep of your arm across your dresser to knock all the other pieces of Ghost into the box and shove it angrily under your bed. What is it exactly that he was trying to do?
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Diary Entry: September 21st
I’m assuming you were unhappy with Ghost’s display. Was it not clear that I was trying to physically show you everything I’ve done for you? Was it not obvious that I love you more than life itself?
Or are you just terrified by that very fact I was trying to get across? Now that you’ve told me you love me, are you leaving Ghost? I suppose I should be respectful of the fact you’ve begun to ignore me. It seems you’ve made up your mind.
I thought you’d be happy with the lengthened leash I’d put you on. No more cameras to watch your every move, I have your phone to listen in when I feel the need to, that’s enough for me now that I’m graced with your beautiful face as often as I’d like to be. I get to see you through my own eyes, no longer forced only to see you through filtered lenses of my mask. Why bother with looking through the lens of a camera anymore either? It’s no where near as satisfying as being able to reach out and touch the flesh I’d yearned to feel for so long.
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Diary Entry: September 22nd
There’s not many things I’m scared of, but this appointment is rightfully terrifying. I simply can’t imagine how you’d react if you happened to overhear any of the sensitive information I’ll be forced to share. I know that patient confidentiality and HIPPA are extremely important and very much required, but what if the walls are not thick enough? Will they have a white noise machine outside the door?
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September 25th
You had been standing on the platform outside Luke’s apartment for almost ten minutes when his neighbor stepped outside onto the concrete platform, sitting himself down in a faded green lawn chair with a cigarillo pinched between his teeth. He regarded you with a slow nod and an uncomfortable head to toe scan, are middle aged men so completely unaware of themselves that they don’t grasp that they’re being creepy? Or do they just not care?
You gave him the obligatory ‘smile so you don’t ask me to’ half-assed toothless smile.
‘Ur creep neighbors out here again.’ You shot off the text to Luke, the fourth message you’d sent him in between loud knocking and shouting.
Luke was never late. He was always the earliest person to any gathering, he was always the most prepared, so unlike you. You’d gotten here three minutes past the time you’d promised to be at his door. You fully expected him to be waiting, tapping his foot with that disapproving frown he loves to grace you with.
“He’s not home.” A gritty, decades-long smoker’s voice crawled into your ear from behind.
“D-do you know when he left?” You asked awkwardly.
“Yeah.” He nodded, taking a long drag from his cigarillo that made him sputter and hack up smoker’s sludge that he spat over the railing. You hoped no one was unlucky enough to be walking past at that time in the parking lot below.
“Do you think you could tell me?” You huffed impatiently.
“Got yer knickers in a twist?” He snorted at your brusque tone.
“Y’know what. Nevermind.” You scoffed, turning away and making a quick exit for the concrete steps and onto the sidewalk below.
With a cautionary glance over your shoulder, you picked up the pace to reach your car. There’s no chance that man could catch up to you, but you wouldn’t put it past him to try his hand at it. You heard a sharp, song-like whistle from behind you and felt your stomach churn.
A familiar, clean voice rang out through the parking lot, shouting out your name. Snapping your head around, your body took a second to follow. It was Luke, finally. Finally he was here and although you were relieved to see him, it also enraged you.
“Where the hell were you? You need to answer your fucking phone!” You shouted, quick walking over to him to shove his shoulder.
“Jesus I’m sorry!” He squeaked, shaking his head in bewilderment at your frantic speech. “I was at the overpass and I saw-“
“Your disgusting neighbor was… he was being disgusting.” You whisper shouted, following Luke up the steps and hoping the guy was back inside.
“Mhm, yes that is usually what he does.” Luke nodded in agreement although sarcastically.
“Where were you?” You repeated yourself as Luke unlocked the door.
“Well I was trying to tell you.” He scoffed. “But you talked over me. You know I hate it when you do that it-“
“I’m sorry! Just-“ you paused, raising your eyebrows as Luke scowled at you. “Right. Interrupting.” You cleared your throat and kicked off your shoes while he locked the door behind you both.
“As I was saying, I was on the overpass and I saw the tiniest little kitten up there.” He said, holding one hand over the other to replicate the size of the kitten. “I felt bad so I got out and scooped him up.”
“You parked your car and got out on the overpass?” You said in a shocked tone. It was always horribly busy and crowded, entirely too terrifying for you to have done that… maybe you might be persuaded by a situation like this.
“I didn’t want the little guy to get squashed.” Luke retorted.
“I don’t want you to get squashed.” You laughed, surprised.
“I’m fine and so is my new buddy.” Luke said proudly.
“You’re keeping him? Oh my god Luke did you leave him in the car?” You gasped, looking down at his empty hands before turning to walk to the door.
“No! No you idiot.” He huffed, smacking your shoulder. “I’m not that oblivious. I dropped him off at the vet’s office. You remember Jalen?” He asked.
“Sure, why?” You asked, pulling a face. Jalen was Luke’s shortest and worst crush from his player stint.
“He works there at the clinic now!” He explained, going to the sink to wash his hands, then trudging off to his room to change clothes. “I told him I was in a rush so he emailed me the registration papers and went ahead and put the kitten in one of those wall cages.”
“Wall cages?” You asked, standing in his doorway, facing the opposite direction so he could have a bit of privacy.
“Yeah, you know, the little kennel things.” He said quickly. “Anyway, I figured I’d fill it out once I got home so give me a minute or two and then we’ll chat m’kay?”
“Does Han know you’re bringing home a baby?” You asked teasingly.
“Yes of course. He’s practically my husband of course he knows.” He scoffed, tapping your shoulder to make you move. He plopped himself down on the couch and patted the spot next to him for you to do the same.
Luke mumbled to himself as he filled out the online registration, it was quick considering he had zero prior information about the little kitty. “Hey, would it be stupid to put ‘pitiful and abandoned’ in the Reason For Visit section?”
“Was he pitiful?” You asked.
“Yes.” Luke nodded, pursing his lips. “Before you ask, yes he was also abandoned. You’re so right. Perfect. Mm, also crusty goopy eyes.”
“Yeah, I’d probably put crusty, goopy eyes first.” You said, crossing your feet at the ankles and resting them on the coffee table.
“Too late.” He shrugged, hitting send and almost immediately getting a confirmation email from Jalen.
“Did you mention that you are in a very committed relationship?” You asked, finding the quick response a tad odd.
“No. Why would I do that? It was quicker and my new friend got into the safety of the little cage before the ugly old scrungly pug that came in right before us did.” He snorted. “I have pretty privilege, Han will understand.”
“You’re awful.” You laughed, covering your mouth as you snorted loudly. “What if you made that scrungly pug late for his very important appointment?”
“Appointment for what? Cremation?” Luke clicked his tongue, hiding a smirk and holding in a giggle at his own joke.
“Shut up.” You snickered, taking a deep breath as you dropped your hands into your lap. “Anyway. I needed to t-“
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m naming it?” He cut you off, looking offended.
You sighed, rolling your eyes and clasping your hands. “Luke. What are you naming your kitten?” You chirped.
“Art the second.” He said with a small smile.
“Nuh-uh.” You grinned, remembering the old scruffy cat he’d begged his parents to let him keep.
The poor old elderly tomcat had wound up on their front porch during a rainstorm and he was almost mistaken for a lump of wet newspaper. Once he got dry, he looked ten pounds heavier from all the fuzz and knots. He lived out the rest of his years being pampered better than the Queen of England.
“I miss Art.” You sighed, smiling fondly at the memory. He was a grumpy old boy but he was the first cat you’d met that you actually meshed well with. You’d joked that you wanted split custody in the event y+ou and Luke ever had a falling out.
“I miss Art too.” He nodded, laying down on the couch and shuffling until he’d laid his head on your thigh. “But Art the Second will live a long happy life. The life Art the First should’ve had.”
“Don’t get sappy please. You know how I feel about that stupid cat.” You huffed, letting out the air with puffed cheeks. It was the first pet death you and Luke had experienced, you thought you may never recover. Obviously it was still a touchy subject.
“Fine, I’ll cry about it later.” He sighed, waving it off before tucking his hands beneath his arms. “Alright, what did you desperately need to talk to me about?” He asked.
“Okay, please promise you won’t yell at me.” You whispered, petting his hair comfortingly while you pulled out your phone and turned it off. This conversation absolutely could not be monitored by Ghost. Your new paranoia making you survey the area to see if he’d somehow placed cameras in Luke’s house as well.
“Wow, I love it when you start a conversation so ominously. I can’t wait to yell at you.” Luke quipped, snorting softly as you glared down at him.
”I’m serious!” You huffed exhaustedly, already tired just from thinking of how too begin your story without revealing too much. “So you remember when uh, someone followed me home from-“
”Please don’t.” Luke sighed, reaching up to squeeze your upper arm. “Babe, I thought you moved past that.”
”Would you shut up and just listen to me?” You grumbled a bit louder than intended, though it seemed to startle Luke into obeying. “Someone did follow me home. I promise. I swear I’m not crazy.” You said almost pleadingly.
”It’s not… not as bad as it sounds okay? Just hear me out.” You looked down and saw Luke was obviously conflicted. Part of him wanted to stop you right there and call Anakin to come get you and the other really wanted to trust you on this.
”I’m listening.” He agreed begrudgingly, nodding for you to continue your tale.
“I lied.” You whispered, hoping, praying, that this lie would come to as naturally as all the others you’d told since then. “I lied and I’ve been lying ever since.”
”So there wasn’t someone following you?” Luke asked confusedly, his eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.
”There was but I… I knew him.” You said, looking away but reminding yourself that Luke of all people would know if you were lying simply by watching your mannerisms. “I lied cause I knew him and things were going- are going so well with Anakin.”
”I told Anakin I loved him.” You said in a softer but no less anxious.
”What? Oh my god that’s great news! Oh god I owe Lauren so much money.” Luke’s words started off strong but ended in a bit of an astonished dissatisfaction.
”Please would you stop betting on my love life?!” You scoffed smacking his shoulder before grabbing it and holding him in place. “I’m serious okay? But you shouldn’t be so happy. Not until you hear everything.” You sighed, rubbing your face.
”I need you to hep me Lukey. Please?” You asked, leaning forward to implore him. “I’ve messed up so bad.”
”You’ve been cheating on Anakin? Haven’t you?” He asked, standing up abruptly to putting one hand on his hip and the other in a fist on his forehead. “ What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked quietly.
”A lot.” You whispered, ‘if only you knew.’ You thought.
”S-so what do you need my help with, huh? Covering for you?” Luke asked in exhaustion, looking at you with an expression you’d never seen before. You’d seen him angry, you’d seen him disappointed, but this was much different.
”No, no not at all.” You whispered, swallowing and looking away from his glaring eyes. “No, I’d never ask you to do something like that I was-“
”Good. Because I like Anakin. He’s good to you, he makes you happy. He loves you. This is the only boyfriend you’ve ever had that I have thought highly of and I will not lie to him.” Luke said sternly, his tone so sharp and serious that it caused you to jump in surprise, readjusting your seated position.
”So you need my help telling him about your adulterous behavior then?” He continued, his lips pursed as he looked down his nose at you.
”No. I need you to tell me how to get rid of the other guy. Just… delicately, he’s very uh, touchy?” You said in an unsure manner, unable to convert the meaning you wanted to without using much stronger, more terrifying descriptor.
“Oh really?” Luke huffed. “He’s touchy? What about Anakin, huh?”
”I-I know Luke! I know that!” You stood up and started pacing nervously.
“You think he won’t fucking kill this guy over you? Cause he will. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Luke said in a low tone, walking over to you with a purpose. “Drop this other guy. Obviously he’s so unimportant that I have never even heard of him until you needed my help for damage control!”
“Luke, no it’s…” You whispered, shaking out your hands anxiously. Luke had never ever yelled at you like this and he was surprisingly intimidating. “It’s complicated and I… I’m so sorry.”
”You’re sorry? You’re saying sorry to me?” Luke laughed in contempt. “I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to.”
”Lukey I’m trying okay? I’m trying to fix this.” You said, nearly in tears. You hadn’t expected this kind of reaction at all. It was not at all as easy to take this side of the conversation as it was to dole it out during Luke’s fuckboy days.
”I love you. I care about you, I want the best for you and the very first time you’re close to making the right decisions… you’ve fucked it up.” Luke scoffed, shaking his head.
”I came to you because you are my best friend and I trust you.” You yelled back. “I’ve been there for you when you were in my position-“
”Don’t remind me okay?” Luke said, his voice falling flat. “I understand, of course I do. But I found Han and I am never going back to that because he is my person. Isn’t Anakin meant to be your person?”
”Yes.” You nodded sadly, feeling a sense of shame that ran so deeply within your soul that it was nearly suffocating.
”So do what you’re supposed to do.” Luke said sharply, pointing you toward the door. “Don’t come back until you have proof you’ve driven this asshat off the bridge.”
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September 28th
Anakin nervously paced the waiting room for what felt like the hundredth time since you’d arrived; he’d sit, stand, stretch, walk, repeat. You wondered if he was like this at every appointment or if it was because you were present at such a sensitive one, even if you were only going to wait outside.
”Ani, please come sit.” You sighed, patting the stiff and uncomfortable chair beside yours.
”I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” He said, refusing to sit but at least returning to your side to stand in front of you, holding both your hands and rocking from the ball of his feet to his heel.
”It’s alright, just take a breath. You already know your doctor, so it shouldn’t be much different from all the other times, right?” You said, trying to reassure him.
”I know, I know.” He nodded, finally deciding to plop himself down beside you, sinking low in his chair to slump and lean his head back against the wall with his hands folded on his stomach.
“Skywalker?” A feminine voice rang out through the waiting room, a younger woman had appeared in the doorway that lead back to the various offices of the therapists and psychiatrists.
”You’re not my doctor.” Anakin said, standing up and shooting you a panicked look.
”No, I’m here to do your intake.” She gave a polite smile and waved him forward. “You’ll be back with Dr. Richardson for your next appointment. It’s policy to go through an intake when a client has taken a hiatus from treatment.”
”You’re a psychiatrist?” Anakin looked her over suspiciously, giving you another worried uptick of his eyebrows after he’d assessed her. “I don’t- I don’t want a lady doctor.” He said quietly to you.
“It’s just for one appointment Ani, it’ll be alright.” You said as you gave him a light squeeze to his hand. “I’m sure she’s great.”
”No, you don’t understand I-“ Anakin was cut off by the woman calling for him again, looking at him with a bit of confusion as she tried to determine why he was acting so oddly.
”Is there a problem?” She asked when Anakin finally complied and began following her down the hallway, leaving you with once last look over his shoulder as the door shut behind him.
”Isn’t there anyone else to do my intake?” He asked, fiddling with the chunky rings on his fingers.
”No, it’s just me.” She responded, pushing open her office door and letting Anakin walk through first. “I’m Dr. Amidala, but you can call me Padmé If you prefer.”
Anakin scoffed, taking in the scenery of her office. She was very clearly the type of woman who thought highly of herself, exactly why Anakin did not trust her in the slightest to provide him with proper care for his condition, perhaps not even just to take the notes she’d be taking to hand over to Dr. Richardson. She had a picture of herself in front of her college framed in a shadow box along with her diploma, the room was decorated in ugly neutral colors, the occasional splash of green from a potted plant, and an essential oil diffuser that Anakin knew would leave him with a headache by the end of the session.
”How long have you been practicing?” Anakin asked, sitting down in the large squishy leather chair designated for clients while she took her place behind her desk and computer.
“Two years.” She responded, presumably pulling up Anakin’s previous medical history, which Anakin believed to be a bit unprofessional. She should’ve already read up on him before the appointment.
”Great.” He sighed, new psychiatrists always seemed so intimidated by him and his diagnosis and it was already uncomfortable enough for him considering this pretentious lady wasn’t his doctor.
“Feeling anxious?” SHe asked him, looking away from her computer screen for a moment. “I understand that, it can be int-“
”I’m not intimidated by you. I’m irritated because no one thought to mention this little change in policy.” Anakin cut her off and it seemed to startle the woman slightly, due to the abrasive nature of his tone.
”Right, well I appreciate your honesty.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Let me tell you a bit about myself, perhaps it’ll make you a bit more comfortable.” She offered.
”I’m only seeing you once, right?” Anakin asked, crossing his arms and sinking down into his seat.
”Yes that’s correct.” She nodded, typing on her keyboard as she spoke.
”Then I don’t need to know anything about you.” Anakin said plainly, receiving a curious ‘hmm’ in response.
”Well lets jump right into the meat of it then,” She sai, spinning in her chair and taking the keyboard with her to type while being able to glance up at Anakin when she needed to. “Why did you decide to stop attending your appointments with Dr. Richardson?”
”Because I didn’t feel like I needed to keep going. I don’t need therapy, I just need my medicine.” He sighed.
”Well, that brings me to my next question then.” She stated, opening her mouth to speak again.
”I didn’t pick up my meds because I was out of town at the time and I had forgotten to call ahead.” He interrupted as he anticipated her next inquiry. “CVS put my meds back up because I didn’t get there to pick it up in time and then I kind of just decided maybe I’d be fine without it, but I’m not.”
”What makes you think that?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed.
”I’ve been quick to irritation and anger, having arguments with my girlfriends over stupid shit. Not her fault though, mine.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “I just need my pills and I’ll be back to my normal self.” He added.
”WHy did you wait so long before calling for an appointment when you know it’s legally mandated for you to keep up with these treatments?” She asked, typing rapidly.
”My girl didn’t know I took any meds, she didn’t know I saw a shrink.” He said, quickly speaking again before Padmé had the opportunity to pose a follow up question. “She didn’t know because it’s not something she should be concerned about, my diagnosis has never affected our relationship up till now so it didn’t seem like I needed to mention it until I was ready to.”
”Your girlfriend, is she in the waiting room?” She asked, getting a simple nod in response. “Why didn’t she come back with us?”
“Because it’s private information and not anything she needs to hear.” He snapped, obviously feeling defensive of where this lady doctor was going with this line of questioning. “She’s sensitive and I don’t believe my past is appropriate for us to discuss.”
“Is that why you were hesitant to speak with-“
”With you? Yes, I don’t think women should be in this field of work.” He said firmly, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. “Other patients with my kind of history can be volatile. It’s not safe.”
”You say ‘your kind of history’ and ‘other patients’. What do you mean by that?” She asked, quickly typing as Anakin spoke over her.
”My kind of history as in criminal history.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Did you not read my file? There’s a reason this shit is court mandated. I might be reformed but that doesn’t mean that everyone who keeps up with their treatments are.”
”I see, so you are ‘reformed’? In your opinion?” SHe asked skeptically.
”You really didn’t read up on me did you?” He scoffed. “I am reformed. I’m a productive member of society, I have a stable job, I have a stable relationship with a woman I love, I have a friend group, I have my own place, I’m in control of my finances. I’m doing better than most regular people.”
“Not to mention I haven’t had a single run in with police or law enforcement of any kind since before my time at the state school.” He added proudly.
”No run-ins? Does that mean you’ve still been committing petty crimes, just not-“
”No absolutely not. Don’t twist my words.” He snipped at her, cutting her off before she could finish the offending question.
”I’d appreciate if you’d allow me to finish speaking from now on.” She said politely even though she was off-put by his behavior and agrees I’ve speech.
”I’d appreciate if you’d not judge me based on other’s behavior. Like I said, I’ve been reformed. I just need my prescription.” He sighed, trying to reign in his attitude. He’d noticed the way she was furiously typing and it worried him.
”Then lets finish this quickly, yes?” She said plainly. “I assume you’re well versed in the mandatory questions.”
”Yes.” Anakin nodded, clasping his hands in his lap. “My sleep schedule remains unchanged, I’m a bartender so I get to bed late but I get plenty of sleep. Little to no anxiety when I’m regularly taking my pills, no suicidal thoughts so long as I’m taking my meds either.” He continued listing off his memorized answers to the same damn monotonous questions he’d come to expect and when he finished, he stood as though ready to leave her office.
”I’m sorry, just a few more things Anakin.” She said, not looking up from her typing. “It’s concerning to me that’s you’ve failed to share your past to it’s full extent with your partner. Don’t you think it could cause future problems if you continue to hid this from her?”
”I don’t think that’s any of your business. If I decide to tell her anything, it’ll be on my own time, not because some bi-“ He took a deep breath and stopped himself before saying something he couldn’t retract. “I will share it with her when I’m ready. She will handle it well I’m sure, considering she’s taken this with grace so far.”
”How long have you been in this stable relationship and is this your first serious commitment?” SHe asked, still typing before she switched over to her mouse and scrolled. “I’m not seeing any mention of former partners.”
”Unoffically we’ve been together almost a year.” He said with a slight hint of a smile, “But officially its just been close to six months or something.” He said before adding: “Yes she is my first real girlfriend, I’m fully committed. I plan on marrying her.”
“Well congrats then.” She said with a small smile, happy to see that at least one thing seemed to consistently bring him joy. Even if it was slightly concerning. “I assume you live together?”
”No, but basically. I’m her neighbor. We live in the same apartment complex, I’m right across the hall from her. That’s how we met.” He nodded, his mood lifting considerably and she made a point to note that.
”Have you put any thought into why this is your first committed relationship?” She asked.
”I was waiting for the right person and I found her.” He said simply with a firm nod and smile.
“If in the event this relationship doesn’t pan out the way you believe it will, what would you do?” She asked, fingers poised to type.
”That’s not going to happen.” Anakin said sharply, gripping the arms of his chair tightly. “This isn’t a therapy appointment, you’re meant to focus on my life currently and my medicine management. You’re not my doctor and you’re certainly not entitled to ask these types of questions.”
”I understand, perhaps I should’ve explained. I’m asking simply because it’s important to see how you react to inavasive questions while you’re unmedicated. Dr. Richardson mentioned you seem very defensive and-“
”And what? You couldn’t have asked me that question directly?” Anakin asked, annoyedly.
”Well in most other cases I would, but it’s been noted that you are a chronic liar.” She stated plainly, turning her computer screen toward him and highlighting the note previously made by Dr. Richardson.
”I want a copy of my full medical history.” Anakin said with clear irritation at the fact he’d been called out so efficiently. “Notes, previous prescriptions, all of it.”
”You’ll have to sign a release of information form.” She said, pulling out a stapled packet from a filling cabinet and handing it over to him with a pen and clipboard. He quickly signed and slapped the clipboard back onto her desk before she handed him another one. “I assume you meant full history as in your records from your time in the state school as well, That requires a serperate form if you’d like for us to collect those files for you as well.”
”Fine, whatever.” He huffed, scribbling in the designated spots that had been pre-highlighted. He tossed the pen down when he was finished and was relieved to see the doctor stand and collect the freshly signed paperwork.
”Follow me please, I’ll drop these off with the receptionist.” She said, ushering him through the door and back down the hallway to the waiting room. She stopped, handing over the paperwork and watching as it was faxed and filed as it should be. “Your patient file for your treatment here will be ready by the end of the day, I’ll send in the script for your meds immediately, the pharmacy should call within a few hours. Dr. Richardson will contact you with the information for your next appointment.”
She skirted around Anakin and approached you with her hand out, standing up, you met her halfway and shook her hand, introducing yourself.
”I always like to get in a few questions with the family if I’m able, would you be willing to come back to my office with me?” SHe asked, her voice friendly and sweet.
”Oh I don’t mind it’s just-“ You started but Anakin stepped in, putting a gentle hand on the small of your back.
”You don’t have to, it’s not mandatory right?” He asked.
”No of course not, it’s just beneficial to get opinions from all involved.” She smiled reassuringly. “It’s common practice in the mental health field.”
”I’m not comfortable with her going back to your office alone, if you’ve got questions for her, I want to be there.” Anakin said firmly, looking down at you in hopes you’d agree with him.
”I usually like to take family back alone for privacy reasons.” She said apologetically.
”Well, if Anakin’s uncomfortable and its not mandatory then I-I’d rather not, if that’s alright.” You said, giving Anakin a small smile to show you were on his side. It was his appointment after all.
”Of course, it’s no problem.” She smiled, bidding you both goodbye before she turned on her heel and click-clacked her way back to her office.
”What was that all about?” You whispered as Anakin opened the door and led you out into the parking lot.
”Hell if I know. I didn’t like the bitch and I’m glad I’ll never have to see her again. Fuckin’ ridiculous.” He huffed, helping you into your side of his car and shutting the door for you. “I sent in a records request for all my notes n’ shit. I didn’t like the way she was looking at me when she was talking and typing. Dr. Richardson never typed that much during our appointments.” He muttered, starting up the car and backing out.
”You wanna get some lunch? Before we go shopping?” You asked, trying to take his mind off what was clearly a stressful appointment for him.
“Absolutely princess, I’m fucking starved.” He said, reaching over to squeeze the back of your neck gently while he kept his other hand on the wheel.
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Diary Entry: September 28th
I’ve been livid and trying my very best to suppress it. That fucking bitch and what she wrote about me was ridiculous. I don’t give a flying fuck if she thinks any of it is true.
Dr. Richardson is a truthworthy guy. I’ve seen him for years and I’m pissed off he’s went and ruined my day by letting this idiot do my intake. Why the hell would I need to do an intake anyway considering I’ve been a patient of his since I graduated? What new information could he have possibly needed? Stupid. It’s fucking stupid.
After we left she continued with her notes, even knowing I would be reading them very, very soon because you bet your ass I went and picked that shit up the moment I got the call it was waiting for me. The audacity she had was staggering. Calling me controlling and aggressive? I’m sorry? In what way was I controlling? Where’d she get the gall to say that about me? I don’t control you.
She’s just not used to a man telling her what to do and how things are gonna be. She’s not like you. She’s exactly the type of woman that needs someone to knock her down a few notches.
I just can’t imagine how she’s kept her job this long, or how she even fucking graduated. I even looked up her college and through the class list for her major and it’s honestly shocking someone so stupid could keep a high enough GPA to graduate. She had to have been fucking several of her professors.
No wonder she was so unprofessional, she doesn’t even have a fucking profession. She’s got a useless piece of paper and a shit attitude that she thinks makes her better than me. This is exactly why I hate seeing women as a doctor. All of them. Mental health or the fucking dentist, I don’t care.
I mean, I’d prefer you not work at all. But at least you have a job meant for ladies. You’re a waitress, that’s perfect for you. Your sweetness, the pretty smile, the cute caretaker instincts you’ve got.
This girl though? Someone ought to shove her behind the desk to replace the receptionist. She’s in no way capable of doing her job accurately. She was too busy thinking about shit that didn’t even matter. I just needed my fucking medicine. I didn’t need her to tell me I’m a chronic liar. How dare she? So what if it’s true? Or at least used to be. I don’t technically lie very much anymore I just omit the truth. No harm done.
If I wasn’t so opposed to killing women I might just find her house and snap her neck. But that would be unfair, I’m stronger, bigger. She’d have no chance. At least with men I’m sometimes, rarely, occasionally: equally matched. If they’re not as fit as me it’s not my problem, it’s theirs for not being able to perform a basic masculine task.
So I’ll just visualize it over and over again until I get tired of hearing that imaginary crunch and squeak.
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October 4th
After the intital miffed attitude from his upset at the doctors office, he had slowly calmed after getting some much needed food in his belly. Almost like a cranky toddler, sometimes he just needed a yummy snack and a smooch to get him back on track or at least back to his ‘normal’ unregulated behavior. Though you skipped your trip to the mall for your shopping trip, rescheduling for later in the week after he had time to readjust. Halloween was a month away after all, costumes could wait.
His records were printed much quicker than you expected, especially after seeing the size of the stack. You knew he saw a therapist as a child so you assumed it was his complete history, including regular doctors as well, not just mental health files. It had to have been almost two inches thick and held together by three large binder clips. Atop the stack was a blank sheet of paper, save for his name, presumably for privacy reasons. Unfortunately for you that meant you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of it before he shoved it into the dash of his car and locked it away.
It seems the doctor was good for getting his prescription filled in an expedited manner, considering it only took two hours when you expected it would be late afternoon before the pharmacy called. You couldn’t help but wonder about what had happened behind those doors, what he’d said, what she had said; to make him so agitated. You assumed whatever was said had caused her to put a rush on his prescription refill.
The very moment he was handed the bag through the drive through window he shoved it into his door pocket to avoid you seeing the medicine’s names and doses. It made you feel like he might not trust you fully, considering how oddly he was acting about it. What kind of pill did he take that he’d assume you didn’t need to know about? It was all very frustrating though you tried your best to support him through the ordeal in the hopes that he’d share more when he was back on his medication.
He hadn’t yet, despite the quick turnaround. It’s been a week and his mood has finally stabilized and he’s back to his doting, loving, caring and helpful self. You didn’t realize how much he’d truly changed during the short period of time he was unmedicated, but after witnessing his improvement it was quite clear. You though often over those days about the conversation you’d had with his mother all that time ago. The look she’d given you, thinking it was so strange of her to have acted that way when thinking back on Anakin’s childhood… but now you began to understand he must’ve been more than a handful during his younger years. Piling on the stress of growing up, school, friends, it must’ve been nerve wracking to raise him.
His teasing comments and sly looks had returned with fervor, his touchy, wandering hands felt you as often as they could, his lips met yours during every lull in conversation, every quiet moment and tender embrace. Your boyfriend had returned to you and you wanted to make sure he never, ever went away again. Not for your benefit, but for his. Yes of course you’d prefer him to be this way, but seeing him suffer like he had been was just awful. Pulling on your heartstrings in the worst way, even as he was getting used to the medication again. He’d complain of headaches and being tired, needing extra comfort and love that you happily handed over without a qualm at all.
Now you sat in a heap on his lap, his hands in your hair and his lips gracing your bare shoulder with soft occasional kisses, resting his cheek there in between them. He’d been glued to you for hours now, like he had been touch starved or perhaps finally realizing just how distant the two of you had been recently. It was a wonderful feeling to be back in the swing of things, back to your normal, happy time together.
“What do you wanna watch next?” He asked quietly, twisting a lock of your hair between his forefinger and thumb, brushing the end across your cheek to grab your attention. “Movie’s almost over.”
“How do you know?” You asked, turning to look at him and scoot more comfortably to nestle yourself between his legs that were propped up on the footrest of the couch, a pillow behind your back to cushion you against the armrest.
“I’ve watched this movie a billion times.” He grinned, sighing as he moved to rub his arm and pull up his short short sleeve to point out a tattoo that you’d seen so many times but never really thought much about. “It’s from the movie.” He chuckled, watching you trace the words ‘Run Rabbit’ in his ink. “You didn’t notice?”
“No I guess I didn’t really connect the dots.” You admitted with a small, bashful smile at your lack of awareness. “You really like this movie that much?” You laughed.
“Hell yeah I do. Love Rob Zombie, I wish he’d make some more movies honestly.” He said with a nod, pointing to the screen and hushing you playfully. “Watch.” He grinned.
You did just that, turning your attention to the screen as Baby repeatedly stabbed one of the poor girls in the movie, over and over again until she finally sputtered and fell silent. As if it couldn’t get gross enough, Baby licked the knife clean.
“Oh nasty.” You laughed, making a gagging noise even as you remembered doing the very same for Ghost, it wasn’t gross then, certainly not gross now… it made you- no. He’s not speaking to you. You don’t miss him.
“You know, that’s his wife in real life.” Anakin said matter of factly as he gestured to the character.
“Who’s wife? Rob Zombie?” You asked to clarify.
“Yep, Baby’s his wife.” Anakin nodded, reaching over to grab the neck of his beer bottle and chug the remain few gulps before sitting it back down with a clunk. “I suppose you could say she’s his muse.” He added, for a moment you thought you saw his lip curve up.
“That’s… kind of sweet I guess.” You said with a slight laugh, grabbing a few chips but returning them to the bag as you caught a glimpse of a half eaten body on screen.
“Squeamish?” He teased, nipping your neck and poking you in the ribs to make you giggle.
“I’m sorry, I can’t munch on my salty snack while watching a man being devoured.” You snorted.
“Well I can, hand ‘em over.” He laughed, making grabby-hands toward the chip bag just out of his reach. He crunched them loudly on purpose just to try and annoy you, but it honestly wasn’t so bad considering the horrid stench you imagined would be suffocating the girl on screen as she waded through maggot infested sludge.
“You never answered my question sweetheart.” He reminded you, feeding you a chip.
“I don’t care, you pick.” You said with a shrug, chewing with your hand covering your mouth.
“Paranormal, slasher, thriller, monsters… what? At least give me that.” He chuckled wiping his hands off on a paper towel he’d stashed on the side table.
“Slasher.” You said without much thought, taking the chip bag back and rolling it up to set it aside.
“Let’s go with a classic.” He hummed, grabbing the remote as the credits rolled. “Been a while since I’ve seen Scream.”
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Part Nineteen
Tag-List:
@tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @demieyesore @hemmoxloser @ahano @astarionsgirl @popcosmi @purriteen @honestlyatotalloser
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
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sh4dys · 5 months
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Just for me » Chris Sturniolo
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summary: chris stumbles across your diary and reads what you wrote about him out loud.
warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, swearing, pet names (ma, baby, my girl)
A/N: i love him 😔 also i think this is bad but whatever
You had been stressed about grades nearly all week, with graduation around the corner you were worried to death about failing.
Your best friend, Chris, offered to help. Leading to your current situation. He had gone through some of your notebook on your desk, stumbling across your very sacred diary. When you weren’t looking he began to flip through it, only to find several entries about himself.
“Chris did you find it yet?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts, turning to look at you with a look of pure disbelief and shock. Your own expression dropped at the sight of what he was holding, lunging out of bed and frantically tried to grab it from him.
“Give it back! Chris, that’s personal!” You had a look of worry on your face as he continued to read, beginning to voice your personal thoughts out loud to you.
“He’s so handsome? Is there some other guy name Chris, or is it about me, Y/N?” He looked at you with furrowed brows, dropping the diary on your desk with a light thud.
“It’s you, okay? Can I not think my friend is handsome?” You panicked and grabbed the book, burying it in the depths of your closet as you tried not to think about what else he could have found.
“You know that’s not all. Y/N, what the hell was all of that? My name was in there a million times!” He slightly laughed as you looked up at him with a heavy frown, causing him to crouch down next to you and grab your chin.
“I’m not mad. I just wanna know why.” His voice was softer, running his thumb over your jaw. “Talk to me, ma.”
You could feel your face heating up even more, swatting his hand away as you stood up with a groan.
“I like you, okay? I know I’m not your type and you only see me as a friend, so spare me the trouble and just go, I guess.” You let out a huff as you tried to handle your nerves, you felt so panicked in the moment you didn’t know what to do when his hands held your waist and turned you towards him.
“Who said I didn’t like you?” He smiled softly at you, before turning to uncover the diary, quickly flipping through and opened up to a page.
“Let’s see what you wrote, yeah?” He cleared his throat dramatically, before using his finger to go over each word he read to you.
“He’s honestly the sweetest guy I know, it’s stupid, but I truly love him. Whenever he uses that stupid nickname, ‘ma’, I find myself becoming a sanctuary for butterflies in my stomach. He makes me smile without even trying, yet makes me cry because I know he doesn’t feel the same. I love hearing him laugh at my jokes, but I get so jealous when it’s another girl. I told myself not to fall for my best friend, but I did.”
He sighed and closed the book again, putting it on top of the pile of notebooks on your desk, looking down at you with a smile. “You think ma is stipid?”
You smacked his arm at his words, trying to ignore the deepening red color forming on your cheeks. “Shut up.” You turned away and crossed your arms under your chest, tucking your tongue behind your bottom lip.
“Baby, I like you too, come on.” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the side of your head as he looked at you. “Stop being so pouty. Be glad I stumbled across it.”
You tried not to smile at his actions, but failed ultimately when he kept kissing your face. “Okay, okay. Fine..” You rolled your eyes and turned in his arms to face him, your hands on his shoulders.
“There’s my girl.” He gave you a droopy lovesick smile, kissing your forehead and kept you close. “Now stop saying I don’t like you.” He lightly pinched your side, earning a yelp from you.
You giggled at his words, nodding against his chest. “Fine, you like me too. Now can we get back to my work? I don’t wanna fail.” You tried to move away from him but failed, his arms keeping you still.
“Let me just read a few more pages, please?”
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astrae4 · 15 days
Text
A LADY’S GUIDE TO SECURING A MAN WITH BROAD SHOULDERS | park sungho
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pairings — park sungho x reader (non idol au)
genre — (wc: 1.5k) fluff, romance 😼, strangers to lovers, fast-burn
warnings — ur kinda stalking him.. a bit…
note — HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SUNGHO!!! Guys i lowk want a man with shoulders as broad as his 🙁 is that too much to ask.. ALSO DANGEROUS WAS SO GOOD!!! The song teases too omg..right in my alley. I cannot wait for the album drop 😋😋
more works: navigation | bnd!masterlist
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YOU SWEAR YOU’VE NEVER BEEN this interested in gyms before. Yeah, sure, you’re sporty. But gym sporty? Yeah no—that’s another level of torture.
Right now though…man you might just change your mind. You do one more bench press, super slow with your focus elsewhere—namely, the mirror on your right that shows a small reflection of the most scrumptious man you have ever seen in your life.
Those shoulders? Good gosh, they’d be perfect for your hands to rest on, agree?
(And the crowd screams yes!!!)
This was how you started being more consistent in the gym. Currently in week three and you’re so proud that you’re broken your world record of gym streaks.
You’ve decided then: you’re going to get him.
There was just one slight problem to this equation… you don’t have any courage to talk to him.
All you know are three facts:
His name was Park Sungho (how’d you know?you overheard a friend of his call him once. You’re not a creep, okay!!)
He had the most gorgeous shoulders known to mankind.
You want him.
Okay so maybe the third one isn’t really a fact—and you swear (cross your heart!) that your infatuation with him isn’t merely because his eyes are as twinkly as the moon, nor because his lips were plump and not crusty like most men, nor is it also because his voice is just…
Anyways! You get what I mean.
That was how you ended up ranting everything to your friend Sanghyeok—which apparently calls himself Riwoo now because he said he felt more cool and mysterious with that name. ( ok get it our nonchalant dread head!! )
“Park Sungho??” Asked Riwoo, startled once you blurted everything, “you mean the one with the pointy nose and sweet voice?”
You paused and raised an eyebrow at him, “duh? Have you been listening this whole time?”
“No not like that—you mean Park Sungho in class 19.99 right? He’s in your calculus class, dummy.”
“Wait—WHAT.”
Riwoo threw you a deadass stare, before fishing a muffin out his pocket and shoving his face in it. Perhaps he knew you too well as you started shaking him for answers.
”Just go approach him—”
”I can’t!”
”Then stop talking to me about it!”
“Please, my-Ri-to-the-woo—”
”UGH FINE! But no promises and you buy me a dozen donuts tomorrow.”
”Deal!”
You didn’t get him that dozen of donuts, but Lee Sanghyeok, being the good friend he is, still ended up conversing with his Sungho hyung in their shared dance class for you.
Luckily for you, he managed to score a hangout—the three of you—for next Wednesday over coffee and desserts.
Finally, with all the gears set in, you could start with ‘diary entry 1: A LADY’S GUIDE TO SECURING A MAN WITH BROAD SHOULDERS’
(yes, it’s meant to be this long)
1. A lady hints, not talks
The first ever step-slash-rule to secure a man is to give hints. Yes, hints. No way are YOU the one to make the first move, you hear me ladies? 😒 If he doesn’t pick up on the clues, then you drop!
Wednesday came. And boy, it came with a lot of nervousness, I tell you! But you were ready. Dropped in the cutest fit you have—a pair of jeans with a puffy dress on top (THIS COMBO>>>)—you were absolutely ready to charm Park Sungho.
It took you a while, but you made it on time (5 minutes late) to the cafe, Riwoo and Sungho conversing already at a table near the windows. Riwoo was the first to see you, sending a wave. You returned it, and right after, Sungho sent you one too—albeit less dramatic. Your smile turned up a bit more before sending a smaller wave back to him.
”Hi guys! Sorry if I’m late.”
”It’s okay, we just came,” replied Riwoo, “this is Sungho, my friend in Dance. Sungho, this is my best friend, [reader]”
Sungho stood up to shake your hand, and you both exchanged ‘nice to meet you’(s).
”Let me get coffee real quick!” You told them, before going to the cashier.
After you ordered, you went back to your seat.
“How are you these days, [reader]?” asked Riwoo
”Good, although I think I overworked my feet yesterday, It hurts slightly,” you replied, which by the way, was a big fat lie.
“Ah, is it doing better now?” asked Sungho, who was deeply concerned.
”It should be, I think,” you replied shortly.
More small talk was made before your order number got called. You went up to get it but before you could fully stand—
“I’ll get it for you, [reader],” answered Sungho.
“Huh?” both you and Riwoo replied in shock.
“You should rest your feet since they might still be in pain if you overexert it,” he replied simply.
“Oh there’s really no need, Sungho—“ you denied at first despite the fact that you were internally giggling.
“Please, I insist,” He replied with a smile that almost melted you on the spot, before taking your receipt and heading to the cashier.
It was silent for a moment before your eyes met Riwoo’s, and his met yours. Both of you kicked each other’s feet before suppressing a big fat grin.
2. a lady takes no risks
consult God (or a fortune teller if you’re not religious) to make sure this man is for you. Use the mind, not the heart.
“Okay,” You muttered to yourself like a nutjob, “IF. And only IF he is the one…um..” you paused your prayer for a second because you had no idea what to say.
You decided to just settle for the classic, “Please send me a sign, amen.”
And with that, you fixed your hair and applied pink lip gloss before leaving the house.
Step after steps, you kept thinking of him until you reached the actual library. You took a deep breath before going in. You were early this time, but it seems that Park Sungho has a matter of showing up super early, because he’s already there—sitting in a seat near the windows.
He had his back facing you, so you snuck up on him quietly before placing your hand on his shoulder.
“Sungho,” you muttered quietly, and he jolted, spinning around to look at you fast.
Were you delusional, or is he staring at you?
“Sungho..?” you repeated.
That seemed to jolt him out of his state, “Oh, [reader]—yes, sorry for that. I was out of it—“
You giggled before taking a seat beside him, “It’s fine, don’t worry.”
There wasn’t much small talk after that, as you both seemed focused and determined to do well on your project. Mid-way, however, a crash followed by a yelp took you out of your very focused state. You turned to see Sungho—only, a book fell on top of his head.
“Sorry!” said a boy above you looking down on the rails. You both seemed to recognize him as Myung Jaehyun, who’s also in your shared calc class together.
“Why that—“ said Sungho, before he gives you a quick brb and went upstairs; probably to murder Jaehyun.
You picked up the book on the ground, and then stilled when you read the title.
‘The Sign’ by Robert Van Kampen.
Oh.
I mean, you’re not opposing now, are you?
3. A lady enjoys the reaps that she sowed
Get rizzed up all night by a nice guy (stream nice guy!!!)
“I love your shoulders,” you muttered at him, a hand on his bicep.
2 months had passed since you first dated each other.
”Oh yeah?” He replied, but his words seemed unfocused and disconnected—I mean, who can blame him when you’re sitting on him, looking so cute after you both just made out.
“Mhm,” you answered once more.
”Tell me more,” He asked.
You did, but midway you realized he was just looking over your lips—not paying attention. You rolled your eyes.
“Are you even list—“
He cut you off with another kiss. It lasted a while before he pulled away once more.
”Can’t believe I’m yours,” He whispered, smiling goofily.
You giggled. Yeah, Park Sungho’s yours. The man with broad shoulders is yours.
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TAGLIST: @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @taerae-verse
NETWORKS: @k-labels @onedoornet
© astrae4 2024 — please don't copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!
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loveinhawkins · 6 months
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While he’s still not recovered enough to play the guitar, Eddie takes up writing again. He uses a scrappy notebook, nothing special: to start with, it’s more a record of his handwriting slowly becoming clearer; gripping the pen, moving it across the page, no longer seems such a daunting task.
And look, it’s not like he’s Shakespeare here, somehow churning out masterpieces from a hospital bed. Sometimes he’s just doodling, flooding the margins with black ink until it bleeds through to the other side, looping spirals over and over for no reason—or maybe just to prove that he can.
He always keeps the notebook close by: folded over, the spine broken so it can rest propped up on the bedside cabinet. Sometimes he forgets, has to quickly put it under the sheets if he’s still writing whenever a nurse comes in.
He doesn’t know what he’s afraid of them seeing, exactly. Just remembers the fear of middle school—a boy ripping his notebook out of his hands and just laughing at Eddie’s desperate attempts to get it back.
It had been a lesson—to not be careless. To not leave pieces of himself lying around for others to handle.
Gradually, he fills more and more pages. Diary entries emerge in between mindless scribbles, and they help even if he’s not ready for talking about March yet, not even to himself.
He painstakingly logs conversations had during visiting hours; just focusing on one word leading into the next is calming, helps bring him out of his head. He’s got whole pages devoted to Wayne’s birdwatching, and actual full-blown diagrams thanks to Robin Buckley filling him in on obscure band kid drama.
On nights when his heart races for no apparent reason, he stays up writing—usually drifts off to sleep by the afternoon, notebook slipping through his ink-stained fingers.
He stirs awake on one such day, and he doesn’t know why until he hears the rustle of pages, the gentle thunk of something being set down.
His notebook.
“Did you look?” he murmurs, more asleep than awake. Maybe that’s why he asks: time is strange in dreams, long buried fears drifting up to the surface.
“No.”
And Eddie manages to open his eyes just enough to see Steve standing by his bed. He’s neatly set the notebook in its usual place on the cabinet, except he’s shut it so the edges don’t curl up all that much.
“No, I didn’t look. Eddie, that’s yours, okay?” Steve says softly, but no less serious for it.
And Eddie wonders if there’s more to the pages he’s filled, even the scribbles—if he’s revealed more of himself than he thought.
“You can if you want,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow.
“Shh. Go back to sleep.”
“Don’t mind if it’s you,” Eddie says. He reaches for words, clumsy with drowsiness, and he surprises himself with what he says, but he finds that he means it. Feels it, so certainly. “Want… want you to see.”
The thought would’ve been terrifying years ago.
But this isn’t middle school, and he trusts Steve Harrington with his heart.
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aemondsbabe · 9 months
Text
The Queen
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summary: dairy/letters & lingerie kink || alicent stumbles across a secret of yours and is more than happy to make it come true
pairing: modern!alicent x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, pre-established relationship, dom!Alicent, sub!reader, queen honorifics used in the bedroom, lingerie kink, use of a leather crop, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, thigh riding, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 3.3k
a/n: happy day seven of 12 days of smuff!! i went into a fugue state and wrote 10 pages in 2 hours. the hold that olivia cooke has on me should be studied by science. anyway.
12 days of smuff masterlist!
gif creds to @olliviacooke
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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Alicent’s POV
She was humming, swaying her hips to a new album she’d downloaded earlier that week as she smoothly moved the duster along the wooden surface of your nightstand, careful as she guided it between the lamp and the small potted plant you loved so much. Getting a bit too into the music she was listening to as she tidied up your shared bedroom, though, she accidentally bumped against the growing stack of books on your nightstand. 
“Shit!” Alicent hissed as a few went tumbling to the ground. Sighing, she bent down to grab them, half-heartedly cursing you for insisting on buying new books before you’d finished the ones you had. 
“Huh?” She wonders outloud, pausing the music on her phone when she sees her name scrawled in your familiar handwriting. Her fingers brush over the soft, leather bound book as she picks it up, her lips pursing as she reads the words “Personal Journal” embossed on the front in fancy gold lettering. Her brown eyes widen and quickly glance around the room, despite the fact that she knows she’s the only one home. Biting her lip, she runs a finger over the spine of your diary, weighing her options. On the one hand, she knew it would be a horrible invasion of your privacy to look but… well, what if it was something important? 
She shook her head at the thought. She wasn’t going to be one of those snooping partners! You already told her everything anyway, it’s not like there would be anything in your diary she didn’t already know! You were basically an open book, in fact, it was one of the things she loved most about you – your willingness to be so honest and transparent. 
No, she thought, carefully setting the diary back on your bedside table, I’m not going to! I’m simply – 
Okay, sue her. She’s only human and her name was right there! She’d make it up to you. 
Glancing around one more time, she flipped open the leather-bound book, flipping through it to the page she’d spotted a moment ago. She found it pretty quickly and nervously bit on a nail as her eyes scanned over the page, noticing the date first. It was from only about a week ago. She read on.
I’m not even sure how to bring up the topic, it doesn’t really seem like something you’d just bring up at the dinner table? Like, “Oh, honey, yeah work was great today! Kevin from accounting is finally getting married, I know! Can you believe it? Oh. yeah, one more thing! Can you boss me around in the bedroom like a drill sergeant?” I mean, come on. 
What if she isn’t even into it? What if she wants to be the submissive one? I don’t think Alicent’s totally vanilla, I mean, there have been so many sparks of… something. Sometimes she tells me to do something, usually innocuous like making sure the door’s locked before we leave or to get the laundry hamper from the closet but… God, the way she says it makes me shiver. And when she’s talking on the phone to someone at work? That authoritative voice makes me melt. 
Sigh. I just need to find the courage to ask. 
Alicent finally finished the entry and looked up from your journal, blinking as thoughts raced through her head. After a minute, she closed the notebook and placed it carefully back on your bedside table, just like it was before it fell off the table. 
She could barely keep the smirk off her face as she grabbed her purse and keys and shut the front door behind her, a devious, delicious plan quickly forming in her head. 
She knew exactly how to make up for her actions. 
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Reader’s POV
You sigh as you unlock the front door, quickly tossing your keys into the small bowl on the entryway table before kicking off your shoes.
“Babe?” You called, furrowing your brows at how unusually quiet the house was. Alicent’s car was in the driveway and normally she’d be playing music by the time you got home but today… nothing. You’re about to call out again when the sound of heels clicking down the hallway makes you stop in your tracks, your bag falls from your hand as your girlfriend finally appears from around the corner.
“Good day at work?” Alicent asks coolly, tilting her head as she leans against the doorway. Meanwhile, you feel dumbstruck as your eyes scan over her appreciatively, taking in every dip and curve as if you’d never seen any of them before. Your eyes skim over her outfit, a black, lacy bustier perfectly framing her chest, with a matching black thong clinging to her soft hips, fishnet stockings held up by an enticing garter belt, all the way down to black, pointed toe heels. She’d even taken the time to straighten her usually curly hair, smoothing it down into a clean, nearly intimidating style. 
She smirked, brown eyes sparkling at your awe-struck expression, smiling when your eyes finally landed on her face; you couldn’t help but swallow when you saw that she was wearing that expensive red lipstick she only brought out for special occasions, the one you love so much. 
Her heels click on the wood floors as she strides over to you and it’s only then you realize that she has something in her hand – a black leather crop. The sight of it makes your knees weak. 
“I asked you a question, baby,” she says gently, locking eyes with you as she gently cups your cheek with in her hand, “It would be rude not to answer.” There’s a hard edge to her voice that makes you lose what little train of thought you had.
“I… uh,” you stutter, blush rising to your cheeks as you stare helplessly at her, fighting to keep your gaze locked on hers, “W-Work was good, yeah. Same as… as usual.” You finally finish, your chest already heaving as you rub your thighs together, desperate before you even know what’s going on. 
“How wonderful,” she smirks and leans in, giving you a sweet kiss like she normally would, but today it has your head spinning, “What do you think of my little surprise?” She asks, though there isn’t really a question in her tone – she already knows your answer.
“I love it,” you breathe, hardly giving her time to finish speaking as you let your gaze wander over her yet again. “What, uhm,” you cough nervously, “What gave you the idea?”
She smiles again, shrugging; you nearly jump out of your skin when she softly runs the leather crop up the inside of your thigh, starting at your knee and stopping tantalizingly close to your core. “Just got the sense that maybe you’d be into it…” She says casually, like you’re talking about the weather, “Was I right?”
All you can do is nod your head, but that’s not good enough, apparently. Her eyes narrow and she wraps a hand around your neck, not too harshly, mostly just sitting it there but it’s enough to make you whimper in the back of your throat, breath catching as her perfectly manicured red nails just barely dig into your delicate skin. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to address me, is it?” She coos, a faux pout to her lips. 
“N-No,” you say shakily, your eyes searching hers, “No… ma’am?” You try, inwardly cringing at how your voice squeaks. 
She clicks her tongue like a disappointed mother, the sound going straight between your legs, as she fixes you with an intense stare. “Baby, you know how I sometimes call you princess?” She asks, smiling proudly when you eagerly nod, “Well, tell me. Who’s more in charge than a princess?”
Your throat goes dry and you swallow thickly, darting your tongue out to wet your lips before speaking. “T-The queen?” You ask softly, pride feathering out in your chest like the train of a peacock when she smiles and nods again.
“That’s right!” She praises, almost as if she was speaking to a child; perhaps you should be offended at her condescending tone, but, if anything, it just makes your heart beat faster. “The queen. Do you want me to be your queen today, sweet one?” Again, you nod, so she continues. “So, address me properly.”
“Yes, my queen.” You breathe the words, core clenching softly around nothing. 
“Very good,” she praises, leaning in and lightly brushing her lips over the pulsepoint on your neck, “Do you want to keep being a good girl for your queen?”
“Yes, your grace, please.” You say with an eager nod, feeling like you’ll explode if she doesn’t touch you, or so something soon.
“Then be good for me and go to the bedroom,” she nods as she speaks, her big brown eyes looking directly into yours, “And strip.” She finishes coolly, leaving you no room to argue. 
You nod quickly and practically leap down the hallway, blushing when you hear her giggling behind you. As soon as your feet hit the soft rug in the bedroom, you tug at your clothes, quickly shedding your sweater and work trousers before unclipping your bra and sliding your underwear down your legs, haphazardly shoving everything into the hamper because you just know she’ll say something about the mess if you don’t. Finally, not knowing what else to do, you stand by the bed, arms clasped in front of you.
She doesn’t make you wait long and you bite your lip in anticipation as her heels click slowly down the hallway, smiling shyly when you finally meet her gaze again as she enters the room. Just like you knew she would, her eyes immediately dart to the hamper and her smile widens when she sees your clothes from today resting on top. 
“What a good girl I have,” she praises as she saunters over to you, her hips swinging enticingly as she moves. Without another word, she sits on the edge of the bed and gently places the crop down next to her on the bedspread, before she beckons you over with a crook of her finger, “You like your queen’s special surprise for you, huh?” She questions, tilting her head as she peers up at you, her hands resting gently on the curve of your hip. 
“Yes,” you nod, your eyes trailing down to her cleavage before you can help yourself and it’s only then that you notice that she’s breathing nearly as hard as you are, a blush extending down her pale neck and chest, “I love it, my queen, so much.” You nearly whisper, dizzy at the thought that she might be enjoying this just as much as you are. 
“Don’t you think you should thank me for your surprise, princess?” She asks coolly, smirk widening as she sees a look of realization in your eyes. 
“Yeah, yes, please,” you nearly beg, already tempted to sink to your knees.
She smirks at your eagerness, all but laughing when you whine as she pushes herself back further, out of your grasp and into the center of the bed, making enough room for you in front of her. Again, she crooks her finger and you hastily follow after her, kneeling between her fishnet-covered legs. With another smirk, she silently spreads her legs, bending them at the knee enough that the heels of her shoes dig into the bedspread. 
Something between a gasp and a whimper escapes your lips as you let your gaze travel down, between her legs, where you’re met with the shocking realization that the black thong she has on is indeed crotchless. Your eyes stay glued to her center, now beautifully framed by two strips of lace fabric; the sight makes you lick your lips without thinking, taking in the way her folds shimmer, even in the low light of the bedroom. Finally, you manage to rip your gaze away and lock eyes with her again, your blush deepening at the hazy look in her eyes as she leans back on her elbows. 
“Go on, princess,” she breathes, that familiar, aroused rasp finally present, “Thank your queen.”
You spring into action, wrapping your hands around her soft thighs as you lean in, kneeling between her legs. Your eyes flutter as you look up the length of her body while you press soft, sweet kisses to the inside of her thighs, your eyes widening when you see her lean over and quickly grab the crop. 
You jolt as she brings it down, smacking one ass cheek with it, not enough to hurt but enough to leave behind a pleasant little zing. “I don’t believe I asked you to tease me,” she admonishes, a playfulness to her tone still as her other hand brushes into your hair, red nails scratching soothing against your scalp, “Thank me properly.” She commands, guiding your head to exactly where she wants it.
You’re more than happy to obey and you press a kiss to the center of her folds, right on her clit, moaning against her as you feel it twitch against your lips. She lets out a breathy moan as your tongue licks a long, straight line up her center, right down the middle, before your lips gently seal around her bud. 
Your eyes flutter closed again as you softly suck at her clit, moaning lowly in your throat at her familiar sweet taste. You move in just the way she likes, kissing and licking over her heat with a practiced ease, pride blooming in your chest with every moan, whine, and sigh of your name. You shake your head against her, attempting to bury your tongue in her twitching core as the tip of your nose teases her clit, your chin dripping with her when you finally pull back. 
“Princess, fuck,” she breathes above you, head tilted down so she can watch as you feast on her, “Fuck me, come on.” She orders, giving another sharp little spank to your bum with the crop. 
You do as she says, smiling as you flick your tongue over her bud while you glide two fingers through her folds, making sure to get them nice and wet before you slide them carefully into her, relishing the long moan she lets out as you do. You can’t help but whimper as her walls clamp down tightly, pulsing around your fingers as you crook them up in the way you know she loves, your lips sealing softly around her clit again, eyes fluttering as you watch her chest heave. 
“Good fucking girl,” she whimpers, accentuating each word of praise with another slap of her crop against you, the pleasant sting you clench around nothing, “Make your queen come, princess, good girl.” She moans, tilting her head back as you redouble your efforts. 
Your arm aches as you fuck your fingers into her, keeping them quirked up against that small rough patch within her, but you pay it no mind, focusing only on the hand in your hair and the taste of her in your mouth, your hips canting desperately in the air. 
You flick your tongue against her bud once more, in just the right way, and it sends her over the edge with a gasp. You moan into her as the hand in your hair tightens and her walls rhythmically squeeze against your fingers, nearly tight enough to push them out. You move steadily, bringing her through her high as you have so many times before, only stopping when she finally goes lax against you. 
You press kisses against her thighs and hips as she comes down, breathing heavily above you. Eventually, the hand in your hair tightens once more, and you sigh happily as she pulls you up. 
“You did so good,” she praises softly, her voice breathy as she presses her lips against yours; she moans softly as your tongue licks into her mouth before she pulls away to trail kisses down your neck, “So good for your queen, my sweet princess.” You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut as you straddle her, one of her legs between yours.
Your eyes shoot open as she bends her leg, pressing her fishnet covered thigh firmly against your center with a knowing smirk. “Goodness,” she gasps, her beautiful brown eyes widening once she feels how wet you are against her, “I think you deserve a reward too, for treating your queen so well.”
“Please, holy shit,” you gasp, your hips already moving on her leg, the pattern of her stockings adding a delicious friction, “P-Please, your grace.” You quickly correct yourself when she brings her crop down once more, making your back arch. 
“Good girl,” she whispers, mouthing at your neck. She lets the crop fall to the bed again as she cups your ass with both hands, guiding your hips as you move against her, “Take what you need, princess, you earned it.” She breathes, smirking as you shudder above her. 
You nod mindlessly, swallowing thickly as you already feel the knot in your stomach tightening dangerously, each drag of your clit over her stockinged thigh sends shockwaves up your spine. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier as you get closer and she smiles happily, bouncing her thigh against your wet core in the way she knows drives you insane. 
“My beautiful little princess,” she whispers, red lips ghosting over your chest, “Behaving so well for her queen.” 
You fall apart once her lips seal around one of your nipples, sparks of pleasure bursting behind your eyelids as she carefully sucks the sensitive bud into her mouth, gently teasing at it with her teeth. Your body tenses up as your walls clench again and again, your fingers grabbing at the sheets as you gasp her name. 
Finally, your eyes flutter open as your high subsides. Thankfully, you have just enough presence of mind to roll to the side, cuddling against her as your chest heaves. 
“Holy shit,” you breathe through a small laugh, your face flushed as your eyes meet hers. 
“So, you liked it?” She asks, a shy lilt to her voice now that both of you have had the chance to come down. 
“Liked it?” You question, staring at her wide-eyed, “I… I loved it. That was incredible.” You breathe, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, “Where on earth did all that come from?”
She giggles softly, a guilty look appearing on her face. “Promise you won’t be too upset with me?” She asks softly. 
“Of course,” your reply is instant as you card your fingers through her soft hair, “Just tell me.”
“I was cleaning a few days ago, when I had that day off,” she explains, swallowing as you nod along, “And I… may have accidentally knocked your diary off the table and then got curious when I saw my name and… yeah.” She finishes, teeth biting at her lower lip. 
Your face reddens a bit, instantly knowing which entry she must’ve seen, but you merely shake your head, about to tell her not to worry about it when she starts speaking again.
“I do feel really bad about it,” she sighs, continuing quickly, “I know it’s a breach of trust but I saw my name and then… I’ll make it up to you, I pr – !” 
She gasps as you cut her off with a sweet kiss, shaking your head dismissively, “Consider it made up.” 
“You aren’t mad?” She asks hesitantly.
“Mad?” You echo, laughing softly, “My sexy girlfriend bought ridiculously hot lingerie, and a riding crop, just to surprise me and fucked me to within an inch of my life and I’m supposed to be mad at her over a little diary?” Both of you dissolve into a fit of giggles as you finally finish, nuzzling happily against each other, “I think not.” You quip, smirking as your eyes search hers. 
“Okay, yeah,” she says with a small eye roll, “I am pretty great, huh?”
“And oh so humble,” you laugh, pressing kisses over the curve of her shoulder before leaning back to smirk at her, “Your majesty.”
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theemporium · 1 month
Note
hi!! can request a mai tai💛 #27 “pulling the other one towards them” with luke hughes please!
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
27. pulling the other one towards them
.
“Woah, get over here!” 
“No!” 
Luke couldn’t bite back his smile as you tried to skirt around him, tried to get to the door before he caught you but you underestimated his reach. He managed to grab your wrist, pulling you towards him as his other arm moved to wind around your waist and lock you against his front.
You let out a squeal that morphed into a laugh, the fight leaving your body as your best friend pulled you towards him. You leaned back against him, tilting your head to look up at him with a grin. You were far too pleased to find him blushing already.
“It’s nothing,” he tried to assure you, reaching for the leatherbound journal in your hand but you clutched it close to your chest. “C’mon, it was probably just…hockey stuff.” 
You raised your brows. “Hockey stuff? Dude, come on, at least try to make your lie convincing.” 
“Line shifts?” He tried again, wincing at his own lack of conviction.
“Yeah, I’m sure ten year old Luke was really breaking those peewee line shifts down to their core,” you deadpanned before lightly jabbing his stomach with your elbow. It was just enough for him to be momentarily distracted and for you to quickly dash to the other side of the room, putting two couches between you. “I’m just gonna take a small peek!”
Luke’s face burned hotter. “No—” 
“Hello, my name is Luke Hughes,” you began, a grin on your face as you continued to read the chicken scrawl that was ten year old Luke’s handwriting. “I live with my parents and my brothers. They are older than me. We all play hockey and I love it sooooo much.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Luke tried to laugh it off, tried to jump over the couch to reach you but you were already moving out of his grasp.
“When I’m older, I want to play in the NHL with my brothers,” you continued, cooing a little at the reality of little Luke’s dreams coming true. “I also hope I get to marry my best friend—”
And then you stopped reading aloud, your eyes scanning the page. 
And Luke’s stomach dropped to fucking hell. 
And he swore this was it. This was what he was afraid of happening and now it was a reality and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He knew how the rest of the diary entry went, knew he went into detail about the embarrassing crush he had on you, even almost a decade ago.
Logically, he knew he should say something. He should say he doesn’t feel the same anymore. He should say it was just a joke. But words failed him and just got caught in his throat as he stared helplessly at you.
“Wow,” you eventually muttered out. 
Luke said your name, ready to spout out whatever he needed to say to keep you in his life because he couldn’t imagine one without you. But you were already talking again.
“We are fucking embarassing,” you said with a laugh, shaking your head—almost looking fond—as you grinned at him. “I mean, over a decade of mutual pining? That’s some romcom shit.”
Luke swallowed harshly. “Mutual?” 
“What? You need to read my diary to prove it, Hughes?” You challenged, playful and joking but a hint of something else in your voice. Maybe nerves.
“Nah,” he shook his head, unable to mirror your smile. “But I think a kiss or two could convince me.”
.
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